All That Comes After
by 00Archangel00
Summary: Post ME 3. After the Reapers comes rebuilding: planets, civilizations, relationships.
1. In the end

**Author's Note:** All the characters belong to Bioware. A big thank you to them for giving us such wonderful and memorable characters.

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><p>"God dammit Joker!" Garrus roared. He threw Vega to the ground and punched the elevator up to the CIC.<p>

Vega rolled to sit up on the ground, rubbing his head he picked up the comm, "Joker, you've got one pissed off turian headed your way."

EDI turned to Joker, "Would you like me to seal the cockpit?" Joker quickly shook his head. He was fairly certain he could handle Garrus.

A half-second later, Joker regretted his decision. Garrus stormed into the cockpit, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Saving your life," Joker didn't look up from the controls.

"She's still down there!" Garrus hoped he had kept the pain out of his voice. Anyone would be upset the commander was left behind, right?

This time Joker paused, "I know."

"Well then turn this goddamn ship around! We have to get her." There was no question who the "she" in question was.

"I can't." Joker's voice was pained.

"Why the hell not?"

"Harbinger." Joker stopped there. For most of the crew, that would have been enough. But Garrus waited, still staring. "You're lucky I was able to get you and Vega out of there," Joker finally continued.

"No," Garrus said quietly, "I am not lucky." He was quiet for a few more moments. Joker almost let out a sigh of relief. He hadn't expected Garrus would go so quietly. Reapers be damned, Garrus was never one to run from a fight. Joker thought he heard the click of Garrus's seldom-used pistrol. "You will take the Normandy back or I swear to all the gods I'll take it without you."

EDI stood. "Garrus, I can't let you do that."

Garrus was still speaking in painfully measured tones, "You can't stop me EDI. I'll shoot you too."

Joker finally looked up from the controls, "No one is shooting my girlfriend."

"Then don't leave mine behind."

Joker sighed, hoping Garrus would put the gun away. Although, Joker figured if Garrus was going to shoot him he would have done it already. "I can't go back. Normandy is too big. I'm lucky I made it the first time."

"Then I'm taking the shuttle. She's down there. She wasn't going to solo the dreadnaught, and she sure as hell isn't going to solo this!"

"The arms aren't even open." Joker pointed to the still closed arms of the Citadel.

"I'm getting her if I have to kill Harbinger with my bare hands." Garrus holstered his pistol slamming the doorpad as he went.

After enough time had passed, Joker finally felt able to speak, "I'd hate to see him angry." Joker attempted a half smile at EDI. All the same he slowed the Normandy and swung her back towards London. Despite his misgivings, he could swing her a little closer, give Garrus a fighting chance. Hell, Garrus wasn't the only one who wanted the commander back.

"Jeff," EDI said, "I think he loves her."

"Yeah. He does."

Vega tried to stop him in the shuttle bay, Garrus shoved him aside roughly, "You're either coming with me, or you're on the sidelines, but you sure as hell aren't stopping me."

"Garrus, the shuttle barely flies." This time it was Cortez. Joker had managed to pick him up from earth too. Everyone but Shepard, he thought wryly.

"It only needs to make the trip once. I'll find a new shuttle once I'm down there." Garrus left unsaid that he didn't intend to make a trip back without Shepard. And if he was honest with himself, he didn't expect to make it back. He didn't need the shuttle to fly, he just needed it to fall. It needed to keep him out of space and get him back on earth. He needed to get to her. She couldn't do this alone. "There's no Shepard without Vakarian," he murmured. He was firing up the shuttle now. His hands were moving independent of his body. He knew his hands were flying over the controls, racing through the preflight check, but he felt like he was in slow motion.

He glanced over, "Alenko, you're wrong if you think your biotics will stop me."

Alenko's response was immediate, "I'm coming with. You need a copilot."

"No, it's too dangerous." Garrus had no illusions that this would be his fourth suicide mission.

"Look, you're not the only one who loves her."

Garrus nodded and returned to prepping the shuttle. Whatever his feelings on Shepard's previous relationship with Alenko, it didn't matter now. The comm crackled to life, it was Admiral Hackett, "The arms are open. Move the crucible into place. I repeat, the arms are open."

"Hurry," Alenko whispered.

"Goddamn you Shepard." The shuttle hummed to life, and Garrus pushed the throttle hard. Garrus noted with some triumph that the Normandy was closer to London that it had been.

"We don't have much time," Alenko said pointed to the now arranged Crucible.

"You think I don't know that? Do you think I don't know she might be somewhere dying right now? I saw her get hit by that laser…I watched…and I couldn't…" Garrus felt something strange in the back of his throat. He wasn't sure what it was, but it made it nearly impossible to keep talking. Alenko was blissfully silent, he looked like he was fighting his own demons.

Cortez hadn't been exaggerating about the shuttle. It was on its last legs. The hit from the reaper must've been brutal. Garrus had the throttle punched and he could feel the engine shuddering. "This might be a one way trip if we can't find a new shuttle." He wanted to make sure Alenko realized just how much of a one-way trip this was.

Alenko nodded, "Wouldn't be the first time."

The shuttle rocked. Alenko almost fell out of the copilot's chair, Garrus held the steering yoke firmly. "What the hell was that?" Alenko asked scanning the viewports. "There," he said a moment later pointing towards the Crucible.

Garrus felt his heart sink. He was too late. It was on fire. Crumbling. He had watched her go up that beam into the Citadel to activate the Crucible. She was in that fiery inferno now, and he was here. Outside. He had never felt so impotent. So useless. At the same time, he felt a strange swell of pride for this woman who had agreed to be his. Shepard had done it. When everyone else was gone, still she stood. And she had picked him. Now, let's hope she's still down there, Garrus thought with a wan grimace. He pushed the shuttle closer, flying across the still smoldering rubble.

"There!" Alenko yelled pointing excitedly. Garrus thought he might have seen Shepard, but Alenko continued, "that's a good spot to land."

It was. It was near the center of the Citadel, the most likely place for Shepard to have been. He surely wouldn't be asked to pilot the shuttle again, he thought as he looked at the flashing yellow lights. The shuttle had hardly touched down when Garrus was at the door and sprinting over the ground. "Shepard!" He yelled his voice hoarse. "Shepard!" he vaulted over the rubble. He heard Alenko moving in the opposite direction calling for Jane too.

Garrus pulled up his rifle. It was a cross between a sniper and an assault rifle—Shepard had given it to him a few weeks back, just after Palaven. He found it comforting. He scanned the rubble with his visor looking for a heat signature. Nothing. "Shepard!" He called again desperation was seeping into his voice. "Shepard!" He kept moving. Damn you, he thought, damn you Shepard. He ran for what felt like hours, pushing the IR on his visor, straining to see movement. Anything. "Shepard!" Garrus's leg stumbled on a piece of rubble, threatening to crumble. He forced himself on. She hadn't given up, he wasn't about to either.

"Garrus!" Alenko's voice pulled Shepard back as though from a dream. "Over here! Garrus!" Alenko was pointing at a heap of rubble across the plain. He was pulling rocks from it, but the pile seemed enormously high. Garrus sprinted. He hadn't run this fast for anything: not in C-Sec, not as archangel, not on Ilos, or the Collector base, never. "It's her!" There was hope and pain in Alenko's voice, and Garrus braced himself for the worst.

Garrus threw himself at the rubble, tearing into it, straining his wounded and weakened muscles. He saw the shape that had attracted Alenko's attention, through his visor he saw it was still warm, and he let himself have a glimmer of hope. It was a human female with the distinct N7 markings on her armor. It could only be her. "Shepard." He whispered his voice threatened to break and he couldn't say anymore. Kaidan was on the ground next to him pulling at the pieces of concrete. The rubble hadn't buried her too far, but as he uncovered her he knew that would be the least of his worries.

The more rubble he took from her, the more his heart sank. He saw her chest rise and fall, but it was so ragged. There was so much blood. "Shepard…I—" He couldn't say any more. There was a nasty wound on her side that was still seeping blood, there was blood coming from her nose and it had found its way on to her lips. One of her legs was twisted into a grotesque angle, and blood matted her red brown hair. "You can't leave me now." He whispered leaning close to hear her heart.

"Garrus," the sound was faint, but it was Shepard. Garrus felt something wet on his cheek. He touched it, confused, it was clear and he wasn't hurt. He didn't know where it was coming from.

"I'm here, Shepard. I'm here." He cradled her body next to his willing that some of his strength could be hers. He had never realized how fragile she was. How light. He had touched her half a hundred times always being careful of her skin. Sure he would leave light scars, but he never worried about hurting her. Now, she was all flesh and blood and broken bones. So very breakable. He held her as close as he dared sprinting back across the rubble towards the shuttle. Garrus didn't think it would take off again, but he didn't have another choice. Shepard needed medical attention now.

Alenko was just behind him, on the comm, "Joker we have her. I repeat, we have her." Alenko was beside him now, "Joker's coming. The shuttle won't make it."

Garrus nodded. He slowed, "Medigel?" Alenko nodded and gave what he had to Shepard. "Hold on. Just hold on."

"She'll make it back to the Normandy." Alenko announced glancing over her wounds. "It won't be pretty, but she'll make it to Dr. Chakwas." Garrus nodded. Alenko had more combat medicine training that he did, and Garrus trusted his opinion. Garrus laid Shepard on the ground. She coughed weakly, spitting up blood. Garrus looked at Kaidan nervously. He didn't know too much about human anatomy, other than the parts he had explored with Shepard, but he was certain this wasn't good.

"Shepard, I think you can hear me, but it doesn't matter. I love you. Always have. Since you tore into me on the citadel clinic for being reckless. I didn't know it then, but I couldn't stop watching you. And before the Omega Relay—Shepard that was the best night of my life. So what I'm saying is, you can't die on me. You can't break an order." Shepard's eyes were closed, and she didn't respond. Garrus looked around anxiously listening for the Normandy even though he knew he wouldn't hear her.

"She's here!" Alenko yelled. He was a few yards off, he must not have wanted to hear Garrus thought. Although if he was in Alenko's place he wouldn't want to hear another man confess his love for Shepard. Hell, even as Shepard's boyfriend, he wouldn't take it well.

Garrus picked Shepard up again. He thought she felt lighter, but he couldn't be sure. He tried to be as careful as possible, resting her head on his shoulder, "Just hold on."

The Normandy was a flurry of activity when he stepped on with Shepard. Dr. Chakwas was waiting at the airlock with a stretcher. Garrus laid her down as quickly and as gently as he could. "She's lost a lot of blood," Chakwas announced already linking up an IV.

"We're the same type. Take mine." It was Kaidan. Garrus grimaced in spite of himself. He would have given everything to be human for this moment. He would have poured every blue drop of blood to save her, but it wouldn't. Kaidan, the man she used to love, would do that. Garrus felt sick. He had always vaguely wondered what jealousy felt like. Now, he wished he didn't.

Dr. Chakwas nodded, "Alenko with me. The rest of you will just be in the way."

Garrus moved forward, "No—" he began.

"No, nothing. I know how you feel about her, but you can't help her right now." Garrus shook his head stepping forward. "Vega," Dr. Chakwas ordered, "keep him out." Then Dr. Chakwas and Shepard were gone.

"Jane," he said to the empty air.

Garrus paced the mess. Vega stood in front of the door, arms crossed. The windows were darkened, so Garrus couldn't see what was going on in there. He couldn't hear anything either. It took every ounce of his turian upbringing not to storm the medbay to find her, but he knew that if Dr. Chakwas asked for space she needed it. The gods knew that was the only thing he could do for her now.

What would his father say if he could see Garrus now? He, Garrus Vakarian, was in love. Love wasn't something turians experienced. At least, not like how humans did, and certainly not how he was now. Platoon first. Casualties happen. For turians, Shepard would have been honored, mourned even, but no one would have gone back for her. And then he had said, "I love you." Shepard had said it to him on the citadel and his stomach fluttered just thinking about it. Now, he wished he had been able to say it then, when could hear, when he could see her smile, see the light in here eyes. But turians didn't say that. And certainly not Garrus, he was supposed to marry a primarch's daughter. And now he was infatuated with a soft human. And warm. Spirits was she warm.

He almost smiled remembering how he had fallen in love with Shepard. IF only he had loved any human, as though an excuse of a flesh fetish would suffice. If he had frequented Chora's Den looking for asari dancers, then maybe he would have been taken less by surprise. But he didn't. He had never even looked at a human, until Shepard. And now he loved Commander Shepard. The Shepard. A fighter like a turian with an attitude like a krogan, and a body like…well, like Shepard. She was no ordinary human. She wasn't ordinary, period. Regardless of race. No, there was no shame in loving Shepard, no shame in weeping for her, no shame at all.

"Garrus." He stopped pacing and looked up. It was EDI, "she will be all right."

"How do you know?

"The Normandy is telling me."

Garrus nodded. It didn't quite make sense, but he knew she had links with most of the computers on the ship and could probably see what was going on in the medbay.

"Garrus? Jeff is sorry for before. He said he wouldn't have left me either." EDI looked remarkably awkward for a synthetic.

Garrus nodded again. Jeff should be sorry for what he did, but Garrus wasn't sorry. He had no words for anyone but Shepard. EDI drifted away to the other end of the mess where the rest of the crew was waiting. Garrus guessed they were watching him, but he didn't care enough to look.

Dr. Chakwas emerged a few minutes later looking almost as bloody as Shepard. Garrus paled, a feat for a turian, struggling to maintain his composure.

Dr. Chakwas looked at him, "She'll be all right. It's good you got to her when you did. A little longer and we would have lost her."

Garrus nodded. Relief flooded through him, and so did that thing in the back of his throat. He couldn't speak.

"You can see her now." Dr. Chakwas continued.

In a daze Garrus headed into the med bay. Shepard was there. Eyes closed, breathing regularly. Garrus sighed in relief. She was covered in bandages, Garrus knew the recovery would take a long time, but she was breathing and he was here. For all that, Garrus considered this one a win. Kaidan was awake and looking visibly paler. "Thank you," Garrus choked out.

"We all know you would've if you could," Kaidan smiled then closed his eyes to give them the semblance of privacy. In a moment of courtesy, Garrus admitted Alenko must have had a hard day too.

He sat next to Shepard's bed watching her breathe for a long time simply delighting in the fact that she was still alive. "I thought I lost you," he finally whispered.

"Never," Shepard's eyes fluttered open. "Never. I told you I'd always be with you."

Garrus looked at her, "Shepard" he stroked her hair, at least the parts that weren't covered in bandages.

"I love you Garrus Vakarian," she said. It was the same declaration she'd made on the Citadel.

"I love you too Jane Shepard." He kissed her forehead.

She smiled, then frowned. She knew it was the first time he said those words. Garrus was about to ask her what was wrong. "Garrus," she said touching his wet cheek, "you're crying."


	2. One Night

**Author's Note**: All of the characters are the property of Bioware. I'm just playing with them.

This chapter is M for adult content!

As always, reviews are more than welcome (especially the critical kind!)

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><p>Garrus wore his best civilian clothes, at least the best he had on the Normandy. He cursed himself for not picking up another set of clothes the last time they were on the Citadel. He picked up the bottle of human whiskey that he knew he could drink—he'd had it on a dare back in his C-Sec days. At least I managed to buy that, he thought to himself wryly. He looked at the label, it was the best bottle he could afford, Cerberus might be dumping money into Shepard, but, judging from his pay grade, they didn't feel the same about the non-human members of her team. He put the bottle down, what was he thinking, this whiskey was probably terrible, it's not like he knew anything about human alcohol. He picked it up a moment later, it was better than nothing. At least then he could offer her a drink before…well…whatever was going to happen.<p>

"EDI, is anyone out there?" He wasn't sure how he was going to explain to any of the crew where he was going much less what he was doing. They rarely saw him out of his armor, and certainly in nothing quite like this. He looked down at himself again, maybe it was too much, but turians took this seriously, and he wanted her to know that.

"No one is around Mr. Vakarian. You are free to go up to Commander Shepard's quarters," Garrus opened his mouth to ask how EDI knew where he was going, but she interrupted him, "you've been muttering about it all day. Also, your calibrations have been a little off."

Garrus closed his mouth, nodding. Spirits, he hoped he hadn't been that obvious. What if Shepard said no? What if she'd changed her mind and just hadn't had a chance to tell him yet? He'd done the research, human/turian couplings were more common than he'd thought but there were still less than he'd hoped. _He _knew about the anaphalactic shock, and he'd assumed she knew too…but what if she didn't and she did research on her own and she figured it out and she didn't want to take the risk. Garrus could feel himself losing his nerve.

"Blow off steam, right?" he muttered to himself.

"She is waiting for you, Mr. Vakarian," EDI chimed in.

Garrus was about to ask how she knew, but decided he'd rather not know the unconscious things Shepard was doing. Steeling himself, he ventured out of the main battery and to the elevator. He almost lost his nerve again in the elevator and didn't hit the button for her quarters, but EDI had already instructed it up to the commander's quarters.

Shepard. Jane. She'd invited _him_ up. Not in an off the cuff way, but seriously. He'd spent time in her cabin before, sometimes even the night, but those times he was never sober. Neither was she. And it didn't mean anything. Those times they were friends. Just friends watching each other's back. After all, friends don't let friends walk home drunk on Omega. This, this was different. Spirits, what would his father say? His commanding officer _and _a human? He'd be lucky if they left his clan markings intact. If that's the choice, he thought, I'll take Shepard. And he knew he'd made his decision.

With that thought he punched the entrance to her quarters. She was in civvies reading a data pad brow furrowed slightly as though whatever was on the screen wasn't what she'd been expecting. Garrus wondered what was bothering her, she'd planned this mission a hundred times before setting course through the Omega Relay. She looked up when she saw him, her expression changing instantly. "Garrus," she began then stopped looking at him.

He paused near the door, "Too much?"

Jane smiled. He almost looked hurt. She quickly shook her head, "No, I've just never seen this before, and I thought I knew everything you kept down in that battery."

Garrus looked a little sheepish. His usual calm exterior gone. Jane realized with a start that he was embarrassed. "I just," he fumbled looking away from her, "I just want to do this right. I don't want it to be just tonight. I don't have a lot of friends, Shepard, and, for me, this is real. I don't know much about human customs, but this isn't just blowing off steam for me."

Jane nodded, "Me either," she said softly. She motioned for him to sit on the couch next to her, "Let's start with a drink."

This time it was Garrus's turn to nod. He was next to her in one swift motion, opening the bottle and filling the two glasses.

They both looked at their glasses for a long moment. "Shepard…Jane…you know this could be dangerous, right?" He spoke quietly, hesitating almost as though he was afraid of her answer.

She was quiet for a moment, "I know. I talked to Mordin about it." She stopped when she saw the look on Garrus's face. "Don't worry, he'll be discreet. But I have some antibiotics, just in case, and he warned me about a couple other things."

Garrus raised one of his face plates, the human equivalent of raising an eyebrow, "Other things?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," she smiled coyly. She seemed so at ease, so why was he so nervous? She'd already accepted him, risks and all, and she was in this for the long haul. So, what was wrong with him?

He jumped a little when she held his hand, "Garrus," she was looking at him, watching him carefully. He looked at her glass—empty. Well, one drink, right? He thought downing the whiskey.

"Jane," his voice was soft. She heard a rumble in his chest and she placed her hand on him.

And then he was kissing her.

Tentatively as first, Shepard realized suddenly that turians probably don't kiss often. She placed a kiss on the inside of his mandible quickly sliding her tongue along him. He stopped.

"Spirits," he whispered.

Jane froze.

"Do it again." And their mouths were together once more. The hesitation was gone from him now, and Jane thought she heard a rumble that sounded suspiciously like a growl. He was fumbling with her clothes, she could hear them tearing. She broke away for a moment to shrug the rest of the way out of them. Garrus, taking the hint, did the same.

They paused there for a moment. "Spirits, Shepard," he whispered looking her up and down. He'd seen plenty of scantily clad women on Omega but he never dreamed Jane would look so perfect.

"If it's not," she began, suddenly ashamed, "if you'd prefer—" She fidgeted under his stare. He realized she thought he was displeased.

"You're beautiful Jane," he answered.

She looked back at him smiling, he closed the gap between them, lifting and carrying her to the bed.

"You'll warn me, if I, if I hurt you," he asked, blue eyes tender.

"You won't," she answered bringing his face close.

She grabbed his carapace pulling him down on top of her. She ran her hands along his armored skin feeling the ridges and grooves between the plates. He tried his best to hold himself up, but once she found his manhood he couldn't help himself anymore. He let out a growl, unquestionably this time, and thrust into her. He paused when he felt her back arch, terrified he'd hurt her. He was uncomfortably ignorant of human pleasure, he realized. She pulled him back a soft moan escaping her lips, and Garrus knew he was doing _something_ right.

He was gentle that night. The gentlest he'd ever been. The scratches he left were light, well as light as he thought he could manage. Even still, she'd felt them in the morning. He could tell by the way she moved—stiffer, more wary—that he'd hurt her. She smiled at him though running her hands along his chest, pulling him close, putting her forehead against his, tilting her head up to kiss him.

She noticed his worried look, "I'm fine," she smiled again, "Look, already healing." She turned so he could see her back.

Sure enough, the long scratches were already scabbing, fading. He still frowned, "Spirits Shepard, I was trying to be gentle. If this—"

She held a finger to his mouth, "You didn't pick any human. Remember, you don't even think about humans like that. You picked _this _human. One with increased healing. I'm fine. Sparring Liara's done worse to me."

Garrus couldn't help chuckling, "Well, if it was no more exciting that sparring Liara, I could try again." He pushed her back onto the bed tugging at her uniform.

She breathed against him, "That's the Garrus I want."

He closed into her again.

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><p>Garrus pulled himself from the memory. Their first night, it was unforgettable, it was everything he hoped it would, dared dream it would be. He still hadn't asked her to be his mate, he'd come close, but with the Reapers he couldn't bring himself to ask. He knew she'd say yes, but he'd wanted to do it right, and there just hadn't been the right moment. She did promise to be only his, but that was different than promising to be only his <em>for life<em>. He knew dinner was supposed to be important when humans asked the question, at least that's how the vids portrayed it, and it was supposed to be romantic, and, in many, there was a shiny ring involved. Garrus hadn't figured out the particulars yet, and that was the only reason he'd waited. He wanted to make sure it was everything she could want. He cursed himself for waiting now.

She was still unconscious. It had been almost 24 hours since she'd spoken to him. She'd blacked out again soon after, and she hadn't woken up since.

If Garrus was being honest with himself, he didn't think he's slept since then either. But judging from the rest of the crew, he didn't think they'd slept either. Despite having a comatose Shepard on board, the Normandy was still queued for landing, Dr. Chakwas having confirmed that Shepard's condition was stable and that there was nothing more to do for her.

A steady stream of soldiers were constantly filing through hall alternating between the bar, quarters, and the mess sending furtive glances at the med bay when they came close. He almost wished they would go away. Let him stalk the corridors in peace, but she was their Commander too, even if she wasn't their lover. Garrus knew he was growling unconsciously while he paced the mess, but he couldn't stop himself. He knew he was a terrifying sight, and he was the reason most of the crew didn't linger near the med bay or over meals. I'm certainly not improving human/turian relations, he thought. It would have been amusing if the circumstances weren't so dire.

Dr. Chakwas emerged again, looking exhausted. She hadn't been out since Shepard had blacked out after the first set of surgeries. Dr. Chakwas wasn't covered in blood this time Garrus was heartened to notice, but the look on her face didn't relieve him. She saw Garrus instantly and began speaking before he could even form a question, "She's the same. Stable. Breathing is regular. Heart rate is normal. But she's exhausted, not just from the injuries, but from everything this past year and a half. Her body is trying to recover. If she dies it won't be from her wounds—" she stopped.

Garrus looked at her, a threatening growl rising in his throat, "What do you mean 'if she dies'?" He'd thought she was out of danger, that's the only reason he was out here and not in there.

"Her body is exhausted Garrus. She's never had a chance to pause. It's almost like she's taking the time now. As though she knows the danger is gone. Garrus, you should know, she might not wake up," she placed a hand on him.

He brushed it off, mandibles flaring, "She doesn't get to die."

"Then I suggest you tell her that."

Garrus hesitated. He hated the med bay, he'd seen too many comrades go in and not come back out. Also, he was horrible at talking to people, even people who couldn't talk back. Except Shepard, he'd never had trouble talking to her…but now, she was broken. "I'm going to take a nap, Garrus, I'm exhausted. You'll let me know if something changes?" Chakwas looked at him imploringly. Garrus felt himself nod before he knew what was happening, and he knew his feet were already carrying him towards her.

The med bay smelled like death and antiseptics, he hated it. He inhaled deeply, searching for the scent of her beneath it all, but it wasn't there. He saw her, lying on the bed, chest slowly rising and falling with the beep of the monitors. He didn't know what to do. He exhaled, moving closer to her. He thought maybe he could smell her again once he got closer, so he knelt at her side lifting her hand to his nose. But it still didn't smell right. The smell of copper and iron was gone now, finally she didn't smell like blood—that had almost been worse than the antiseptic she smelled like now. He closed his eyes listening to the rhythmic breathing, remembering the last time he'd heard it up in her quarters.

_The feel of her, so soft, her tongue so incredibly wonderful. _

He put his head on the bed not looking at her anymore but still holding her hand in both his. He waited. He still didn't know what he wanted to say to her. _Buck up, soldier_. He almost smiled, she'd given him pep talks half a hundred times, and now when it mattered, when all he could do was talk, he had nothing to say.

He sat up. Saying anything had to be better than saying nothing. She had to know he was here, waiting for her.

"Look, Jane. You won. Destroyed the Reapers. Saved the galaxy. Got the ruggedly handsome guy. You deserve a break, and, hell, if you'd rather rest in a coma than on the beach with me no hard feelings…well, maybe a few. What I'm trying to say is 'it's over'. So, you can come back to us. To me. I need to ask you something, Jane Shepard, and it's important. So, come back. Your boyfriend needs you. And he's not going to your funeral twice."

She didn't wake up. She didn't wake up that week either.


	3. When Skies are Grey

**A/N:** Thank you to everyone who is following this story, favoriting this story, and reviewing this story. As always Bioware owns almost everything, and I'm just playing with it. Reviews are always welcome!

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><p>Anderson's funeral was a week after the Reapers were defeated. They'd found his body buried in the rubble a few days after the final battle. Shot, burned, and battered. Almost unrecognizable. Similar to the face of earth. The human world had been almost famous for its once lush landscape now covered in thick concrete skyscrapers, but even then, amidst their self-made destruction it was more beautiful than the solar-stripped face of Palaven. But now, the long furrows of charred earth where Reaper beam met artillery crisscrossed the right-angled streets, and even the traces of her beauty had faded into her scars.<p>

The Normandy was finally given docking clearance for the funeral, and the ship hadn't left since. A few of the Alliance Navy ships were assisting the transfer of refugees to other planets, but the Normandy hadn't been included in the orders. Garrus wasn't surprised, according to his sources the Normandy wouldn't be leaving earth until rebuilding on earth was well underway. Or if Shepard recovered—or died, but that was best left unsaid. No one could think of another commanding officer for the Normandy, it was so thoroughly Shepard's ship. Garrus also heard some murmurs about a "memorial," but he refused to connect it to Jane. The humans were in a desperate race to save themselves and their planet and had to mobilize their weary soldiers to evacuate the displaced soldiers. The war torn earth was barely able to sustain its own diminished population let alone the sudden influx of refugees and wounded soldiers from the final battle who were unable to make their way home.

Admiral Anderson's funeral was a stately affair both humans and their allies were given notable places. The Council was there in all their finer: the Primarch, the Dalatress, even Wrex. Despite their own desperate need to rebuild on the far reaches of the galaxy, everyone seemed to realize Anderson's sacrficie had been made for everyone. The Normandy's crew was in attendance, in a place of honor, and Garrus found himself in the position of the XO. Liara'd mentioned something about it being decided by human crew a few days ago. Garrus wondered if they were only there because Shepard was still unconscious, still stable, still breathing, still unaware. A belated apology on behalf of the Alliance, a token gesture for their broken Commander, a tribute to the ship that used to be Anderson's such a long time ago.

Admiral Hackett gave a moving eulogy about duty, honor, and the ultimate sacrifice. Garrus thought his words were trite, and after everything, rang hollow. He found himself wondering when the last time Hackett had been asked for the ultimate sacrifice: he had been relatively safe commanding the ships. Safer than Anderson and Shepard, certainly, and most of the men he claimed to lead. He knew it was unfair, but from where he stood, it sure looked like Anderson and Shepard were the risk takers, and they were the silent ones.

He stood tall in his blue armor, and when the casket passed he gave a turian salute. After all this time he was surprised he still remembered, he hadn't been an official member of the turian military since he was a kid. But old habits die hard, and Anderson was Shepard's friend, her mentor, and he would do right by her. He would give Anderson the respect for Shepard because she was still somewhere else. _Resting_. Tali grabbed his hand, giving it a brief squeeze. He knew he wasn't letting his emotions show, but Tali, well somehow, she still knew this was killing him. He glanced down at her, attempting to give her a reassuring smile. It had to be killing her too. He forced himself to focus on this funeral. For Anderson. For Shepard. But that was where it broke down. It was too similar to one he'd attended three years ago and to one he was afraid he'd be going to soon.

After the Normandy docked, most of the Normandy's crew dispersed within a day or two searching hopefully for their families. Only a handful of them were at the funeral, none of them new Anderson, and they weren't Shepard's famous squad mates. Garrus didn't blame them for leaving, for missing another funeral for another hero. As for the state of their Commanding Officer, they'd hear about Shepard when she finally woke, and they'd be able to celebrate their famous commander with those closest to them—the friends and family they fought to save. Tali stayed on earth telling the flotilla Shepard was her captain and using her vas Normandy title. The admirals didn't dare to argue with her. Her badge of shame was now an honor. Liara stayed too, although Thessia asked for her to return. Garrus didn't see her often, her Shadow Broker work kept her busy. Unsurprisingly, the business of information trading grew as galactic civilization floundered. Joker didn't have any family after Tiptree, so he and EDI found a place close to the docks and the hospital. Alenko's family was close anyway, so Garrus didn't count that as staying. Vega had, apologizing profusely, left. And then there was Garrus who still had to find an apartment because he left the hospital so seldom. Garrus knew his father and sister were safe on Palaven—Solana suffered a few relatively minor injuries, and despite longing to go to them, he couldn't bring himself to leave Jane. He hadn't told his family about Jane yet, and that was complicating things, but he knew he couldn't leave earth until she was awake.

Anderson's funeral was majestic, Garrus reflected on his way back to the hospital. Hackett's words were inspiring to almost everyone there, and the whole service bespoke the perseverance of the human spirit. The vaulted ceilings of the broken cathedral lent added weight to the stoic military funeral. Blue alliance flags draped the casket, and the gun salute forced everyone to stand straighter. The whole rebuilding effort on earth was impressive, if Garrus was honest with himself. It would take years to clear the rubble let alone rebuild, but, given how divided Shepard claimed humans were, their solidarity now was unquestionable.

Jane's hospital room smelled the same as when he's left. Sterile. Anti-septic. Flowers. Some days it seemed like everyone in the galaxy was hell bent on sending her flowers. Ugly ones too. Garrus wasn't sure what to do with all of them, and he'd been depositing them secretly in the rooms of other wounded soldiers. He knew that's what Jane would do if she were in his position. He'd found her perfume in her quarters when the Normandy docked, and when he slept he made sure it was near him. It cut out some of the harsh antiseptic smell, but not all. Sometimes he could almost pretend he wasn't in this hospital _alone_.

Jane was unchanged since he'd left. Although he worried through the entire funeral that she'd still be unconscious, he didn't stop worrying that she'd wake up alone. "If you could see the things you're doing to me Jane," he muttered taking his usual place at her side. "I thought I was a bad turian before." He rested his head on her hand listening to the soft pulse of her heart and the gentle sound of her breath as always alert to any change. Today was more exhausting than he'd thought it would be, but he'd only closed his eyes for a moment before he heard someone behind him.

It was Alenko. Garrus knew he should be grateful for what Alenko did after the Crucible fired, but he wasn't. The wounds were still too new. Too deep.

"Kaidan," he said hoping his weariness wasn't showing. _Be polite_.

"Garrus, I was hoping you'd be here."

_That_ took Garrus by surprise, "You were?"

"Yeah, I—" Alenko looked down at his hands, "we haven't had a chance since everything went down."

"What's on your mind, Kaidan?" Garrus asked, already unsure if he wanted to continue this conversation.

"You drew your gun on Joker."

_Shit_. "Yes," he said carefully.

"You were willing to shoot EDI. Hell, you would've shot anyone."

"Yes, Kaidan, I would have." Garrus was using forcefully measured tones.

"You wouldn't have given it a second thought. You really would have killed Harbinger with your bare hands. You weren't going to let anything stop you."

"She's very important to me," Garrus responded with what he considered to be the understatement of the year.

Alenko shook his head, "You love her. I mean, I thought _I_ loved her, but you, you will move mountains for her."

_You sonofabitch, you never loved her_. Garrus didn't think he could ever forgive Alenko for what he said to Jane on Horizon, but he tried to restrain himself, "Yes, Kaidan, I do love her."

"I'm glad. She deserves someone like you. I mean, you've never hesitated, it's always been Shepard first for you, even when she was with Cerberus…and I'm glad."

"Thanks," Garrus wasn't sure what human etiquette expected of him here. "It was just never a question for me. She makes me a better man, even before she said she loved me, when I first met her. On the Citadel. With Dr. Saleon. She pushes me to be better. She makes me _want_ to be better. And I don't even have to think about it. It's not a choice—I will always give everything to be with her. Without her my everything is nothing."

Alenko was quiet for a long moment. "Yeah. I know. Wish I'd known it about myself sooner." He was quiet again. "I was pissed at first, Garrus."

"Me too." He knew his voice couldn't have been more than a growl.

Alenko looked surprised, "But she didn't cheat on _you._"

Now it was Garrus's turn to be quiet. Shepard had told him to be civil to Alenko, that the mission was too big. But the mission was over now. "She didn't cheat on you either Kaidan. I was there on Horizon I heard what you said to her. She was dead for two fucking years and then you accuse her of betraying you? She died, Kaidan, and you couldn't even pretend to be happy. The woman you were willing to follow into hell came back from the _dead_. The woman you _loved_. And the first thing you do is _accuse_ her of betraying you because she _died _and now she's using the people who saved her to save the galaxy? They saved her, Kaidan. Brought her back to life. Our Shepard. And then you send her that goddamn e-mail about that doctor. Do you have any idea what that did to her? No. You don't. You. Weren't. There. But I know, I watched her walk the Normandy for days. She wasn't there. She was heartbroken. So, before you accuse _anyone_ of cheating, remember you were the one who walked away from her."

Alenko let out a long breath, "There was no doctor. I lied. I didn't know what else to do."

Garrus shook his head, "But you walked away. When she needed you."

"What else was I supposed to do? She was with Cerberus! You've seen what they do to biotics."

"Have you met Jack?" Garrus figured if anyone was going to play the biotic card with Cerberus it should be Jack.

"I just didn't know it was her."

"That's where we're different. I did."

"That's what I was trying to say. You will walk through fire for her. Hell even. And it's what she deserves. And after your reaction to Joker's stunt last week, you deserve her too. I'm glad you both figured it out…and I'm sorry you couldn't help her that day." Kaidan was staring at his hands.

Garrus took a deep breath, "Thanks. I'm glad you were there. It was hard to watch. I would've given all my blue blood just to make one drop of her red."

"I know, it's why I'm not mad anymore."

Garrus _almost_ let that one slide, "I don't need your permission, Alenko."

"I didn't say I was giving it," he paused, "Do you think I could have a minute?"

Garrus nodded. He couldn't really say 'no' but he was terrified she'd wake up to Alenko and not to him. He carefully moved his hands that were neatly intertwined with hers and stood up moving towards the hall. He saw Alenko sit in his spot, next to Shepard, and he closed the door.

The hall was dim, it was night in the salarian hospital. The salarains had appropriated one of the still intact buildings on earth to be a hospital, the Dalatress remarking that after originally refusing support it was the least they could do. Despite the influx of patients the hospital was nearly deserted at this hour, at least in Jane's ward. There were a handful of doctors and nurses, a few haunted family members, and the soft hum of generators. He wondered absently if he looked like the other visitors: gaunt cheeks and empty eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he'd showered or slept much less had a decent meal. Tali kept bringing dextro food, but he never did more than pick at it. He was a little surprised they'd let him stay since legally he wasn't Jane's family. He wouldn't have left even if they'd said something, but he was glad the question never came up. He wondered vaguely if Liara was behind it, but he also thought it might just be because Shepard had saved the galaxy and everyone owed her a few favors.

He wasn't sure how long to give Alenko, but he thought he should head away from the door and give them some privacy. Alenko had been able to do that at least back on the Normandy, and Garrus had just blamed Alenko for walking away from Shepard so he could afford to be generous. Finally calling Alenko out. That felt good. Really good. He'd wanted to punch him in the face since Horizon, tear his throat out actually. He had been furious when Jane went to see him in the hospital. He wasn't jealous. Not exactly. But from where he stood, she didn't owe him one damn thing. And when Alenko had come back on the Normandy acting like he'd been carrying a torch for Shepard, Garrus had been close to coming to blows with the human. Jane wasn't about to have that on her ship, though. Her exact words had been something along the lines of "how can I unite a galaxy if I can't even unite my crew." So, he'd done his best to pretend like he didn't notice, or at least like it didn't bother him.

"Well, Jane, if you'd wanted me to be nice, then you should have woken up," he said to the empty air. He wasn't about to let anyone, let alone Alenko, accuse Jane of cheating. Sometimes Alenko needed to be reminded of just what went down on Horizon.

He was at the cafeteria before he knew it. Somehow his feet had carried him towards the food. His stomach rumbled ominously in response, and he began poking through the nondescript containers searching for any dextro food.

After a few minutes he found some quarian food. He turned it over in his hands silently cursing the quarian immune system and their sterilized food. It was so bland. He knew it was better than nothing, but he still regretted not eating more of the food Tali brought for him. That, at least, hadn't been sterilized. He picked at the cellophane covering and then at the food inside. It tasted worse than he thought—it was sterilized _hospital_ food. But Tali hadn't brought him any food today with Anderson's funeral, and it was better than nothing. Not like he would even appreciate good food right now.

He pulled up his portable terminal while he was eating worrying that otherwise his thoughts would find exactly what he was working so hard not to think about. Sol had written to him for the third time, so had his father, but there was a surprising message from the Primarch. Garrus had been in contact with the Primarch while he was on the Normandy with Shepard, but he hadn't heard anything from Victus since the Reapers were destroyed. He saw him briefly at the funeral and had received a polite nod of recognition and, if he let himself get cocky, thanks. He thumbed instantly to it—

_Garrus,_

_ I hope I can call you that—I think after all that's happened in this galaxy we are friends. And that's why I need you on Palaven. We're rebuilding, and I need someone I can trust, someone the people trust. I trust you're still on earth because of the Normandy's participation in that human Admiral's funeral, Anderson, I believe it was. Now that's done I'm sure you'll be able to find your way to Palaven in the next day or two. I won't take no for an answer, Officer Vakarian, so don't make this become an order._

_ - Primarch Victus_

Garrus reread the missive a second and then a third time before resting his head in his hands. He wouldn't leave Shepard, of that he was certain, and if she was his mate they wouldn't have asked him to. At least, not while she was like this. But she wasn't. And no one knew that she wasn't just his Commander. His mandibles flares, how in seven hells was he going to dodge an order from the Primarch? One day, two maybe, before he was expected to be on the next ship for Palaven. He could maybe stall the Primarch with an excuse about the Normandy, he had been given the place as XO during the funeral today, but that wouldn't last long. Not nearly long enough.

He flicked to the letter from Sol hoping that would put him in better spirits. She'd already assured him her leg was fine, and that "she'd be back with her squad soon." He knew it would be another set of questions asking where he was, why he wasn't back on Palaven, and if he was dying. He didn't know why he hadn't written back to Sol yet, probably because he didn't have answers to the questions she was asking. At least, he didn't have answers he could share.

_Garrus,_

_ Where are you? Dad and I have been expecting you back for days. Why aren't you on any of the transports? Are you wounded? Where are you?_

_ Sol_

He could almost hear the edge in her voice, in the terse, clipped way she formed her questions. She was worried. More worried than she wanted to let on, and he needed to write to her.

_Sol_,

_I'm fine. I'm on earth, and I'm fine_. He hoped the reiteration of _fine_ would sate most of her curiosity. _I've had a few things to do with the Normandy. That's why I haven't left. __Shepard's still out._ He crossed it out. No need to bring up Shepard. No need for those questions. _How are you and Dad?_ He added instead. _From what I've been reading rebuilding on Palaven is going well. You should see the humans, even Dad would be impressed._

_ I love you._

_ Garrus_

He reread the letter. Simple and straight forward. He hoped that would hold her until after Shepard woke up, and he'd have better answers. More tangible answers. He ignored the letter from his father, he was almost certain it would be about the Primarch's request. He wasn't ready to be accused of dereliction of turian duty. But that did beg the question: what was he going to do about the Primarch?

He looked at the mostly uneaten container of quarian food—he wasn't crazy about it before and he certainly wasn't going to finish it now. He threw it away almost resignedly, doggedly retracing his steps back to Jane's room. He didn't know how long he'd been gone, but he'd given Alenko more than enough time. He found Jane in the same state he'd left her in. She hadn't woken up to see Alenko and not him. Alenko wasn't speaking anymore, he was sitting silently holding her hand and watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Garrus assumed he'd said whatever it was he came to say and he softly cleared his thoat.

Alenko looked almost startled. "Garrus, hey, thanks." He dropped her hand.

Garrus nodded.

"What if she," Kaidan looked at the broken body of Shepard, "What if she doesn't wake up?"

Garrus looked at her too. At the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the stable heartbeat like a tiny, rhythmic drum. It hadn't changed in a week. Nothing had changed in a week. "She will." He finally answered, "She will."

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><p><strong>AN **(again. Apologies): ME 3 Spoilers! So, don't read this note if you haven't finished the game!

I'd like to make a note on what happened during the ending of ME 3. It doesn't sit well with me that 1) the mass relays were destroyed obliterating galactic civilization and probably leading to the death of hordes of turians, quarians and krogan because of inadequate food on earth, 2) the Normandy left...they followed me to Ilos and the Omega 4 relay, but suddenly they're gone? and 3) to get the "perfect" ending I have to commit galactic genocide. Seriously, I worked so hard to reconcile the geth and quarians only to kill the now sentient geth?

So, these three things did not happen. Chapter one, hopefully, accounts for why the Normandy didn't flee the battle. But the other two points haven't really been covered yet (although they will), but I wanted to make that clear (since EDI was around in Chapter 2 and I just talked about aliens getting to their homeworlds in a matter of days).


	4. The Distance

_**A/N:** _Another big, big thank you to everyone who is following this story! As always, Bioware owns Mass Effect, and I am just writing for fun.

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><p><em>She was running, sprinting over the wasted plain. Garrus and Vega were just behind her, and a whole squad of marines were behind them. They were taking the Catalyst, the Citadel, this was ending. Now. She pushed herself harder, faster. The ache in her lungs, the strain in her muscles, the weight of her armor was fading with her last push. Nothing else was left between her and the end of this god forsaken war. <em>

_ Harbinger. She saw his dark form rise over the horizon, and she knew, before he said anything, that it was him. He was indistinguishable from any of the other Reapers, but she _knew_ he was the only one who would find her now. The only one who would try to stop her. The only obstacle. "Faster!" She yelled through her comm willing Vega and Garrus to hurry, to press their burning muscles to breaking just to get through that fucking beam. "Move people!"_

_ And then it hit her. She tried to dodge it the first time, but she was caught. And that was it. Bright white and then nothing. And when she came to they were gone. Dead. Her whole squad. She heard Hackett and Anderson on the comm. It was her. Just her. She raised herself to her knees, almost collapsing. Her hand instinctively found its way to her side. Shit, a stomach wound. Her hand came away red, and she pressed it harder hoping to stop the bleeding long enough to make the Crucible fire._

_ She was alone._

_ It was all on her. _

_ This was her suicide mission._

_ All this time spent preparing, planning, organizing the fleet, and, in the end, it came down to her. She'd always known it would. Known that somehow this was her burden to bear, but she didn't think she would feel so oppressingly alone at this moment. She shot the husks and the marauder. Reflexively. She could hardly hold her gun anymore. She took one shuffling step forward, and then another. Laboring, so slowly. _

_ Too slow._

_ People were dying. _

_ And she collapsed into the beam praying to a God she barely knew that this would be it. That this would be all she was asked to do._

Shepard gasped. Eyes fluttering open. Garrus heard the change in her heart rate and the sudden increase in breath. Shallow and short. He was awake before he knew it, "Shepard? Jane?"

"Garrus?" Her voice was hoarse and weak, barely more than a whisper. "Where-?" she coughed.

Garrus sat straight. "Earth. You're on earth," he whispered taloned hand already on her face.

She turned, slowly, to look at him confused, "Citadel? Reapers?" Her voice was still little more than a whisper but she spoke with an urgency Garrus doubted was good for her. _You're alive?_ She wanted to ask, but somehow those words caught in her throat.

"Shhhh…they're gone. All of them."

And that's when she started to cry. Heart-wrenching, soul-crushing sobs that wracked her body. She shuddered, shoulders heaving, breath catching in her throat. It was done. All of it. The weight pressing on her inexorably for the past four years was gone. Finally.

And that's when Garrus called the doctors. She saw the terrified look on his face. She wondered vaguely how much of a mess she must look at this moment.

A team of salarians and a single human hurried into the room orange omnitools ablaze as they took her biosigns, "Vitals are stable…internal injuries healing…psychological status unknown."

Garrus knew different doctors were speaking, but they blurred into one jumble of answers until the end. Unknown? What do they mean unknown? Jane was awake.

"Mr. Vakarian, we're going to have to ask you to please leave the room for a moment," one of the salarians began leading him towards the door. He almost protested, Jane was finally awake, but he let himself be led into the hall. There would be time. Spirits, there would be time.

He paced anxiously for a moment still turning the doctors comments over in his head before punching a quick note to Liara and Tali. His message was short. They would be here soon, and Liara, at least, would know what to do about the incoming barrage of reporters. Garrus's brief interactions with them hadn't gone well, and he didn't relish the idea of encountering anymore of them.

The salarians locked him out of the room longer than he anticipated. One or two of the reporters were already beginning to assemble casting wary glances at Garrus but mostly ignoring him. He'd learned early on he didn't make warrant the front page as Shepard's squadmate—that was reserved for the deceased Ashley and the vanished Alenko. Garrus hadn't seen him since his lone visit two weeks ago, not that Garrus minded. He idly wondered if Alenko would come poking around once he figured out Shepard was awake. Regardless, the reporters only had time for Jane's human squad and her escapades as an Alliance marine. Things were still too fragile if they talked about her Spectre and Cerberus activities.

The first time he saw the special on Jane, Garrus couldn't help but feel betayed for her: "Commander Shepard, Hero of the Alliance, Defender of Elysium: The Woman under the Armor." They'd interviewed her past commanding officers, Ashley's family, and some of the Normandy's crew. They talked about the Blitz and then about how Shepard united the galaxy against the Reapers. No mention of Saren. No mention of the Collectors or the Illusive Man. No mention of Thane, or Legion, or Mordin. No mention of the other people who were left behind. Garrus wasn't surprised Ashley's family had agreed to be part of the special, they'd had a bad rap since the First Contact War, and Ashley had finally atoned for it. He was surprised the crew agreed, they were marines, and they were fiercely protective of their commander. So he was surprised when they bared their secrets about her before a camera for the galaxy to see. None of the secrets were damning or even life altering, but they all seemed so eager and ready. Garrus had never been so glad about keeping his relationship with Jane quiet. No one contacted him or Tali, Liara had been asked about her "relationship" with Shepard. The sexual overtones obvious. And she'd turned them down.

The Shepard they portrayed wasn't the one he knew. When he watched their special, their documentary, he saw a bright and shiny Shepard who was always listened to, whose warnings never fell on deaf ears. A Shepard who wore her Star of Terra on her uniform and who fought every battle like the Blitz. Their Shepard wasn't haunted by her past or by the things she'd had to do and the people she'd had to leave behind. This Shepard—the one lying in that bed—she remembered how many ships were lost in the first battle for the Citadel and she wrote to each deceased crew member's family. This Shepard hated the Blitz. She hated the fame it brought her. This Shepard still saw herself as a soldier first and only grudgingly considered herself a hero. This Shepard, the one who sacrificed herself, was ignored, incarcerated, and died. Garrus didn't buy their Shepard, but maybe it was because he knew the real Shepard so well.

Liara arrived not long after the first reporters looking hurried and flustered. Garrus was still pacing the hallway, slowly wearing a trough into the floor. "What happened? When did she wake up? Is she all right?" Liara's questions came out in a tangled mess.

"It was a little over an hour ago. I was sleeping. I heard her move, her breathing quickened, she said my name." Garrus hugged Liara as he answered. It was so good to see her, to share his happiness with someone who'd known Shepard as long as he did.

"Good. This is good." Liara's pace slowed. She was thinking, typing on her omnitool, planning the next steps.

"The reporters are already arriving." Garrus pointed to the group at the end of the hallway. She'd walked through them on her way to Jane's room, and he couldn't think of why he'd thought he should point them out again.

She looked over and smiled, "I know. Alliance brass will be here soon, they'll take care of it." She studied him for a long moment finally laying one blue hand on his arm, "She'll be fine."

Garrus nodded. She would be fine. They would be fine.

The human doctor finally emerged from Jane's room. He nodded towards Liara and Garrus before approaching the steadily growing crowd of reporters, "At this time, Commander Jane Shepard is awake and responsive. We have some further tests to run, and the Commander will be unavailable for questions for several days. I am sure the Alliance will brief you more comprehensively when they arrive. For now, I ask you to please wait in our press room." The doctor watched the crowd slink slowly away from Shepard's room. Satisfied they were far enough away he motioned for Garrus and Liara, "She's been asking for you."

Shepard was awake and almost sitting when they were allowed back in the room. The bed had been raised, and she looked alert. Garrus felt relief sweep through his body uncurling the tendrils of worry that had been gripping him for the last three weeks.

Shepard broke into a wide smile, "Liara." She held out her hands.

Liara moved quickly to embrace her friend, "Jane."

The last of the salarians filed out closing the door behind them.

"Garrus, come here," she ordered letting go of Liara. He obliged kissing her gently on the forehead. She grabbed his head just behind the fringe, her hands still cold and clammy, "I'm not going to break." She kissed him. Hard. Garrus purred. It had been so long since he'd felt her. So long since he allowed himself to hope.

She smiled at his response gradually pulling away, "I see your gunship, Vakarian, and I raise you a Reaper."

Garrus chuckled in spite of himself, and he heard Liara laugh too. It felt good to be laughing again. So many somber nights. So much silence. And Shepard was back. He ran the back of his hand along the scar running along her hairline to her collar, "Maybe next time you're on Tuchanka you'll get a couple mating offers. I hear krogan like a woman with scars."

She touched her scar too, a frown briefly clouding her face, "Jealous Vakarian?"

He shrugged, "Only if you're more popular than me."

"Keelah se'lai, Shepard." Tali didn't pause once she entered the room. She was next to Shepard in three quick steps.

"Tali! How's the house?" Shepard smiled, but Garrus could see the exhaustion start to line her features already.

Tali looked away, "I, um, haven't started yet."

"Why not? The doctors said I've been out for three weeks. Surely you've claimed a homestead. The south continent right, where the farming is good," Jane trailed off when Tali didn't interrupt her, "It has been three weeks right? Not three years?" Her eyes searched all of theirs.

"It's been three weeks. Don't worry, Jane. None of us have gone home yet," Garrus took her hand.

Suddenly Jane was the Commander again, "What do you mean none of you have gone home? Tali, it's your homeworld. You've dreamed of it since you were a child. I saw you on Rannoch. I almost didn't think you would leave. Liara, Thessia, we almost lost it. And, Garrus," her eyes turned accusingly on him, "your father. Your sister. Your family."

Tali interceded, "Shepard, you were there for us when no one else was. When the admirals gave me your ship name it was supposed to be a badge of shame. I was part of a _human _ship not a quarian one. And then they accused me of treason, but you spoke for me. You proved that I was loyal, and my badge of shame became one of honor. Why else do you think they made me an admiral if not for all the work I did with you? For better and for worse, Shepard you are my captain. I am still Tali Zorah vas Normandy."

Shepard was quiet for a long moment, "But your home. Your planet. Rannoch."

"Will still be there. Because of you."

"Liara? Garrus?" Shepard looked at both of them.

"Shepard, we are where we are needed. No more of this now," Liara answered. For the first time Garrus was relieved he didn't have to answer one of Shepard's questions. How would he explain that his father and his sister wanted him home. So did the Primarch.

"Garrus," Tali turned towards him, "Did you let Joker know about Shepard?"

Garrus coughed. One awkward question evaded only to be hit by another, "Well…I, uh, haven't talked to him…"

"He's here? And EDI? Did EDI—?"

"He and EDI are close, I'll let them know," Liara was already on her omnitool.

"He lied," Shepard muttered her face darkening again, but a moment later it was gone, "He's here?" She was visibly excited. Garrus couldn't blame her, after all, Joker and Garrus were the only ones who never doubted Shepard. Never questioned her motives. "Wait," her brow furrowed, "Garrus, why haven't you talked to them?" Shepard knew Garrus and Joker were close.

The three ladies went ominously quiet looking at him expectantly, "I may have threatened to shoot him." He looked at the floor.

"You what?" Despite her weariness Shepard still managed to yell.

"Things got a little tense when you went up into the Crucible," Tali explained doing her best to be politic about it.

"But you were with me…how did you get on the Normandy?" She withdrew her hand.

Garrus hung his head. "I don't know," he whispered.

Liara cut in quickly, "He went back for you. Joker picked him up without Garrus knowing."

"We were going to take the bar together," Jane whispered.

"It wasn't my choice…" he almost protested.

"Joker picked them up unannounced. Then, Garrus crashed the shuttle," Tali offered. She sounded a little upset about the shuttle.

"But first he threatened to shoot us." Joker entered the room EDI holding his hand.

"You could've taken me back," Garrus shrugged. If he was going down, he was at least going to make a stand.

Joker had the grace to smile, "Everything worked out."

"Did my boyfriend really threaten to shoot you?" Jane asked Joker watching EDI. She _looked_ fine, but Jane still couldn't believe that she was still here. The Catalyst…her choice…

"Yes, Commander, he did," EDI answered assuming the question was directed at her.

"EDI, too?" Shepard looked at Garrus.

"There wasn't time. I just…I couldn't…" he swallowed. The desperation of those minutes came flooding back. He was so far away from her, and she was alone. And he wasn't on her six. She was going into this alone. "I'm sorry Shepard, I'll come back later."

His eyes were suddenly far away. "Garrus…wait!" she said, "Vakarian!" but he was already gone. "What in the hell happened up there?"

"I was picking up Cortez when I heard the comm chatter about your team, so I thought I would see if there was anything I could do. I saw the three of you running to the beam, the marines were desperately behind. It was EDI who saw Harbinger and she knew you weren't going to make it to the Crucible. It was a race. I tried to get you, but I could only get to Vega and Garrus before Harbinger—" Joker stopped. He'd been speaking so methodically. Jane realized he must have seen her take the hit.

"Mr. Vakarian was extremely displeased with Jeff. He and Major Alenko took the shuttle to reach you, but you'd already fired the Crucible. The Major found you, and Mr. Vakarian brought you back to the ship. Without Mr. Vakarian's persistence you might not have made it," EDI continued.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get you too," Joker said.

Jane shook her head, "No. If you had gotten to me I wouldn't have fired the Catalyst. No one would have. We'd all be dead. The Reapers would still be here. You did the right thing. Thank you, for getting them, even if they didn't listen."

"Shepard," Liara hestitated, "You should make sure Garrus knows."

She nodded. "Where is Alenko?"

Liara shrugged. "I can try to find him for you if you'd like?"

Jane shook her head, "He'll hear soon enough." She still felt a little awkward about how things went down between them. It couldn't have been easy for Kaidan to be on the same ship as she and Garrus. But he'd never said anything, and the silence just steadily filled between them.

"Shepard, now that you know what happened to us, what happened to you? How did you survive Harbinger?" It was Jeff. He'd sat in one of the few chairs in her room waiting for her answer.

She was silent for a long while, "I'm not sure I know." She went quiet again trying to make sense of it: the Illusive Man, the Catalyst, all the bodies in the Citadel…Anderson. "Anderson! Where is he? Did he?"

They looked at each other, none of them daring to speak, no one meeting Shepard's eyes. Tali was the first, "Shepard, I'm sorry."

"He was with me. If he made it," She searched their eyes, hoping he was still in a coma like she had been.

"We went to his funeral," Liara continued gently. "I'm sorry."

Shepard shook her head. _They were sitting together watching the fleets she had so painstakingly assembled. Praying it would be enough. Staring at the quick red, yellow, and orange explosions against the inky blackness. She was bleeding out—she could taste the iron on her tongue. She could feel the cold begin to crawl from her feet through her legs. She looked at Anderson, he was paler than he'd been a minute ago, "Shepard," she could hear the strain in his voice, "You did good. I'm proud of you." She managed a tight smile. They were dying. After all this, it was the end. It was over. The Crucible was finished, the fleet was fighting, Garrus had been hit by Harbinger…she'd heard the comm. She could rest. She'd be with him soon. I'm coming Garrus. _

"I can't believe Anderson's gone," she whispered, "Did anyone else?"

"The fleet took some heavy losses. The turians lost the most, they offered themselves as the vanguard. Hammer was decimated. The krogan infantry saved us—and the rachni," Liara answered.

"After watching the vids of the rachni, I can only imagine the desperation of the salarians during the Rachni Wars," EDI offered. Shepard almost smiled, she still hadn't quite figured out human conversation.

"The infantry line held. Saving the rachni queen, twice, was a brilliant move on your part commander. Commandoes cleared the buildings and turian scouts surprised the Reaper ground troops. The geth hunters were invaluable heavy artillery. Your fleet was impressive, Shepard. It held. It saved us," Liara continued sorting through information as she spoke.

"And earth?" With the destruction of the Citadel and bearing the brunt of the fight against the Reapers she could only imagine.

"Will survive. So will Palaven, Thessia, Rannoch, and a hundred other worlds." Tali finished.

Shepard nodded. The team of doctors filed back into her room. "She should rest," one of them said holding the door to signal visiting hours were over. Her crew, her family, nodded silently filing out.

"We'll be back tomorrow, Shepard," Liara promised.

She nodded, "If you see Garrus—" she stopped, what would she say to him?

"I'll let him know."

And they were gone. And Shepard was alone.


	5. Small Talk

**A/N:** Thank you everyone for all of the reviews, favorites, alerts, etc! I'm thrilled you're all enjoying this little head canon of mine :)

Brief warning: This chapter contains sex acts, so read at your own discretion.

As always, Bioware owns nearly everything. And reviews are always welcome! Enjoy!

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><p>The sun his Garrus's eyes hard. He hadn't left the hospital since Anderson's funeral two weeks ago, and that was the first time he'd actually set foot on earth. He didn't know where he was going. Didn't even know where to go. Didn't care. After all his talk about Alenko leaving Shepard on Horizon, about him turning his back, and he'd done the same thing with the Reapers. Not by choice. But the look in her eyes when she'd found out. Her voice rang in his head, "We were going to take the bar together." Garrus couldn't shake it. He'd betrayed her. After all she'd done, after all they'd done, and he'd left. Garrus Vakarian. Archangel. Ran from a fight. The only fight that mattered.<p>

His visor buzzed with a message. He ignored it. How could he have threatened Joker? Why didn't he run faster? Shepard never outpaced him unless she specifically ordered him on her six. How did he let himself get picked up? Why wasn't he faster? Why hadn't he gotten on that shuttle right away? Why was he so slow? His visor buzzed again, and for the first time in years he turned it off.

His talons flexed instinctively, mandibles flaring. His head throbbed. He'd never hated anything so thoroughly in his life as he hated himself. Not Dr. Saleon. Not Sidonis. Not the mercs on Omega. Not the Reapers. Him. He left her. His love. His life. He left Shepard. Jane. She'd promised to never leave him alone, and then, at the end, he left her. She thought he was dead.

The streets slowly became more difficult to navigate. The hospital was in one of the few districts of the city left mostly standing, and it was where the Alliance assembled its temporary government. The Council had split weeks ago, each returning to their homeworlds and colonies to tend to the damage there. It seemed galactic unity could wait. Rent in the still standing buildings was exorbitant since there were so many displaced civilians, landlords were charging outlandish prices for the security of four wall and a roof. The refugees gladly paid, at least, those who had the money paid. Squatters tried to find some buildings that weren't full or who didn't have a landlord yet, but those were few and far between. The law of force being easily applied—no one owned the building but someone was finally able to control it.

Further out, where the destruction was more permanent and the buildings were no more than rubble, shanty towns had sprung up. Using slabs of permacrete and the metal from the destroyed Reapers crowds of refugees huddled in the carved out ruins of civilization. Garrus regarded them strangely as he wandered through their ramshackle streets. Small children watched him with wary, hungry eyes all too frightened to ask him for money. They were ragged, skinny things who scurried into the spaces between the pylons when he looked in their direction. He wondered vaguely if they had parents, or if their parents were killed in the Reaper attack. Garrus doubted many of the news vids made it this deep into the wreckage. This deep into what earth had become to see a whole new breed of duct rat.

Relegated to the extreme edges of even the most ragged shanty towns were the aliens. Those too wounded or too poor to afford passage off-world were crowded here: far from food, from water, and from the medical supplies many of them clearly needed. Garrus wasn't surprised at how far they'd distanced themselves from their hosts, anti-alien sentiment had been at an historic low but bands for drunk marines were still best avoided. Each race kept to itself too, there was no intermingling of salarians and turians or asari and drell. The alliances Shepard worked so hard to forge might fail just as quickly as they were promised, Garrus mused as he wandered through each neighborhood—if he could even call them that. Each face bore the same haggard look, exhausted by the endless stress and combat, terrified the ad hoc gangs roving the streets would steal the few belongings they had left. Garrus watched two slim turians sharing a rations bar. They ate quietly and quickly, both clearly starving, and Garrus realized he could have done something here. While he was waiting for Shepard to wake up, he could have been here. Just another place he wasn't when he should have been.

He found a rough steel shed bearing the universal symbol for bar and swung himself in. He didn't know he'd been looking for one, but now that he was here it seemed like the only place to go. He was light blind for a moment in the dim confines of the bar, and he suddenly wished he'd left his visor on. But his eyes adjusted quickly, and he was surprised to note the bar was larger than he first though and that it was filled with all the different races. Bars, he thought, the only place where all the races willingly interact. It didn't matter where the bar was: Ilium, Omega, the Citadel everyone would behave just long enough to get drunk…and then all bets were off. He found a spot in the corner, and he sat down shaking. He knew it was the stress, and he knew the other patrons were looking at them, and he knew he must look like a mess, but he didn't care.

Garrus ordered a drink, the only dextro drink the bartender, a batarian, claimed to have. Seven, or eight, drinks later and too many hours to count Garrus almost felt like he could accept that he'd done what he could. He hadn't asked Joker to pick him up. He'd gone back as soon as he could. The gun, that was rash, but he hadn't been thinking clearly. Jane would forgive him. She had to. He didn't mean to leave her. And he'd come back. That was what mattered. He slammed the last of his drink and went to stand but promptly ended back in his seat. He looked up to see a rather beautiful female turian standing over him looking bemused.

"Can I help you?" he slurred.

She sat next to him. He almost objected, but couldn't in time, and then it was just too late. In the back of his mind he wondered how badly this would end and knew he should stop it, but his brain wasn't connecting to his voice right.

"You're _the_ Garrus Vakarian," she said looking him up and down. He wasn't sure how she did that because he was sitting. But he was drunk, and he was distracted by the emphasis she placed on who he was.

"Yeah." He tried to look back at her with the same intensity. Her clan markings were still brightly painted even after the battle that surprised Garrus. She wore an infiltrator's armor and the markings of the 6th—a well-regarded unit. "But who are you?" He hoped that would send her away.

"Vallara Tymion of the sixth."

"I can see that." He slurred. He knew he shouldn't be talking to her. Knew it wasn't good. But his mouth was working and he couldn't tell it stop. Damn drinks. Damn stress. Damn this planet.

"You're the one who took down Saren. You're the one who led the attack against the Reapers on Menae. You're the one who gave us time to evac. You're the one who landed most of us here." Her tone was almost accusing, but not quite.

"Yes, among other things." He looked down at his empty glass.

"The turian national hero is here, in this seedy shit hole?"

"It's been a long day. Is there something you want?" As soon as he asked, he wished he hadn't.

"I want to get you a drink." She motioned for the bartender and two more dextro drinks appeared at the table. "To the end of the war," she clinked Garrus's glass downing the drink in one swift movement. He followed suit.

Vallara inched closer, and Garrus wanted to tell her no, but what came out was, "How'd you end up with the sixth?"

"Did well in basic, better on Aephus. Led a couple recon missions. Someone noticed. Got some information on some smugglers. I was promoted just before the Reaper Invasion."

"They didn't keep you on Palaven?"

"We were promised here. Your CO, I guess. I'd rather defend Palaven, but it was easier to watch another world get destroyed."

His CO. Jane. "Yeah. That's the way isn't it?"

She was leaning closer, and Garrus knew he had to say something. Had to stop this. Had to get back to Jane. And then it came back, the way she'd dropped his hand, the look on her face, how he couldn't say anything to make it better, how he'd left her alone to face spirits knew what.

"You'll want to stop there."

Spirits, only the Shadow Broker would be able to find him in this mess.

Vallara visibly bristled, "And who are you? Last I saw he was still unspoken." She was referring of course to his open cowl, and probably also to some gossip vids.

Liara almost smiled at Vallara. Only Liara could look so innocent and threatening, "No one of any importance." Her blue biotics flared and Vallara was caught in a blue stasis field.

The batarian bartender looked up in response to the sudden blue glow in his bar, "Hey! No biotics!"

"I apologize, we were just leaving." Liara grabbed Garrus and hauled him out of the bar dropping the stasis field once they were outside. "Come on, before you actually do something stupid." Garrus had rarely heard Liara actually angry.

"But I did," he whispered picking himself up and focusing intently on putting one foot in front of the other.

"No, you did what you had to. No one blames you. Not Joker. Not EDI," she looked at him, "Not even Shepard," he was about to speak, "No. First thing tomorrow you're going back there, and you're going to apologize."

"I could go now." It seemed like a good idea. Before anything else happened. And she hadn't been alone.

Liara stopped him, "No. Not looking, and smelling, like that. We're going home. She'll be just fine tonight." Liara thought about throwing in the fact that Alenko was with her, but he wasn't, and although she didn't mind giving him a couple things to think about tonight, there was no need to torture Garrus. He was doing that just fine on his own.

"Home is the hospital." He was feeling better now and belligerent. "With Shepard." He tried to elude her grasp. And failed.

"You're coming with me, of course. If I leave you alone you might _actually_ do something stupid. What were you thinking back there? With her? She's pretty enough, but Shepard. Garrus." Liara grabbed him aided by her biotics he was no match for her. Garrus thought he was going to stumble over the rubble a couple times. His feet still weren't responding as they were supposed to. But Liara held him in place, and he was fine.

Her apartment was refreshingly close to the hospital. It must have cost her a fortune, but Garrus knew she had the money. Being the Shadow Broker had perks. Her work was spread over every inch of the apartment. Screens flashed orange as new information came in. Datapads covered the table, and there were several vid screens running news from a dozen different worlds. Garrus sometimes forgot that being the Shadow Broker meant she didn't sleep.

She pointed to the couch, "There Vakarian." Wordlessly he settled in. "I assume, I can tell you I won't speak of this…indiscretion." She raised her eyebrows at him. He nodded. Suddenly he was thankful he had a friend with as many resources as the Shadow Broker, and he was thankful she cared enough about him or Jane to find him.

He closed his eyes. He knew it was early morning, and he hoped he could catch a few hours of sleep before he went back to the hospital. Poor Jane, alone. But maybe that was what she wanted tonight. Not to be with him. After he'd left. Walked out on her. First during the battle, then again tonight. He was no better than Alenko.

_The battle suddenly sounded far away. Harbinger had been there, and then it was quiet. Shepard had been in front, he'd been watching her six. Trying to keep up. Somehow he couldn't, and that never happened. She'd yelled "Run" and he did, and now he was here. Wherever that was. He looked left—Vega. Right—nothing. Something was familiar about where he was laying. His eyes searched the background. The Normandy. It flooded back. He wasn't dead. Shepard! Spirits, where was she? "Goddammit Joker!" he yelled._

He tossed on the narrow couch almost falling off. How had the Normandy picked him up? Why? Joker should have known. His eyes opened. The room was dark, Liara was in her bedroom. He could hear her moving quietly, getting ready for bed. He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He was trying not to think about what he'd done tonight. It had been too close, and he didn't know why. Sure, she had been a beautiful turian, but he'd seen plenty of them. He was stressed, but it wasn't the first time. He'd been fine, usually, before Shepard. He was drunk, but that was never an excuse. Thank the spirits for Liara. She was right. It was something he would have actually regretted. More than pulling a gun on Joker. Much more.

It was a long time before Garrus finally drifted off to sleep.

_Lips. Warm, wet, supple. Beginning with his rough scars and sliding down. He purred. The lips paused. 'No,' he could barely whisper. A light bite in response. And then the lips and the tongue. The things humans could do astounded him. Flesh, he was beginning to think, definitely had advantages._

_ His eyes were closed. It had been an order._

_ The tongue was leaving his neck now, finding the gaps in his armored skin. Biting softly, prodding. His body tensed, talons clenching and unclenching reflexively. Trying not to move—another order._

_ Something soft brushed his stomach. Not hands. Those were strong and sure and deft. This was almost accidental. Again. Softer than hands. Rounder. Breasts. He arched his back to find them again. She pushed down into him in response, tongue still exploring. They collapsed against him, soft and firm. Turian females had something similar, but human ones were a delightful paradox—soft, warm, firm, malleable. He didn't think he could love anything more than her lips…until he discovered her breasts. He reached for them. Was batted away. "Orders." She brushed him softly with them again. Running them down his stomach, "It'll be your turn soon enough." Garrus moaned at the thought back arching involuntarily. She pushed him back down._

_ Her lips were halfway down his chest, and she paused at the spot she'd discovered a week ago. Teasing. She straddled him. He could feel the heat from her thighs against his. He leaned up into her. "This is my game," she nipped at him still working over his chest, "and you are dangerously close to insubordination." He growled the rumble in his chest vibrating through her._

_ Now the hands went to work running up his thigh. Pressing, rubbing slow circles until she found him hard and ready. Garrus imagined he could feel her smile against him. The tongue slid along the flesh of his ribs. He moaned as she nipped the exposed skin. Hands all the while gliding over him. Grabbing. Meeting his thrust. Her breasts pressed against him. He knew there was a human word for them, but spirits, he couldn't remember it now. Teasing. His back arched into her again. He could feel the wetness just beginning between her legs. He growled again at her hands, her breasts, her wetness. She slipped one leg off and slid further down in one swift movement. In the next he felt something wet slide over him. It wasn't her—this was too insistent. Soft and hard in all different places. Then, he felt her tongue. "Spirits," he managaed a hoarse whisper. Definitely the tongue. Nothing in the galaxy was better than the human mouth. Even the breasts._

_ Her lips slid down his length swallowing. Her tongue following. Sliding over his flesh. His only real flesh. She moved back up still caressing with her tongue. She found his tip and lingered for a moment until he thrust into her and pressed her head back down. She bit. "Spirits Shepard." He thrust into her. Again. She moved over him. Lips pressed firm. His fingers wove into her. He could feel himself moving faster as she urged him insistently with tongue and lips and mostly gentle teeth. He felt his arms go numb then his legs, but still he held her to him. He opened his eyes to see her, head bobbing, hair pooling at his hips. His vision blurred and he let out a feral snarl as he climaxed, _"Shepard!"

"Good dream?"

Garrus's eyes snapped open. Where in the seven hells was he? What happened last night?...Liara—Liara! "I, uh," he hurried to explain his brain still working out what exactly was going on.

"I'm sure that was about Shepard," she continued an amused smile playing across her lips. "I had no idea she was _that_ good."

Garrus was glad turians didn't blush.

Shepard was awake when he finally made it to the hospital. Liara made him shower, and eat, before letting him go reminding him the entire he was supposed to apologize. Profusely.

He lingered outside her room for a long while. He watched her eat and skim a datapad. The thoughtful look returned to her face, and he knew she was concentrating on a new report from Hackett or from Joker about the Normandy. The bruises were fading from her face, and he knew she was feeling better just from the way she moved. He smiled, the woman had the appetite of a krogan even after a day of shore leave. He thought he saw more flowers than had been there yesterday, and he shook his head automatically. Who was sending all these things? Shepard didn't even know that many people. Also, where were they getting them? He doubted the Reapers had made an exception for florists. He looked down at his empty hands, he should have brought something, that was the human custom…and the turian one too. He was about to go find something when Jane saw him. She smiled, then frowned head turned to the side.

Well, this was it. He'd planned on pausing at the door so she could tell him to leave. At least, that's how he'd rehearsed it in his head. But instead he resumed his place at her side burying his face in her hand, "I'm sorry, Jane."

She reached behind his fringe for the soft place at the back of his neck, "I'm just glad you didn't actually shoot Joker."

"No, Jane, I'm sorry I left you. I—" he looked down at her hand.

Jane was quiet for a moment. She didn't realize how difficult this would be for him. No jokes. "I know," she finally said, "Joker told me. It wasn't your fault."

"But I lost you once, and then I almost lost you again. I promised you I'd be there, and I wasn't."

"Garrus," she forced his head up looking into his blue eyes, "You were here. You went back. Damn stupidest thing you've ever done, but you _were_ there. And you're here. Tali told me you never left except for Anderson's funeral. Garrus no one has been through as much with me as you. You've always been there. No questions. Did you honestly think some stupid stunt by Joker was going to change anything?"

This time it was Garrus's turn to be silent. It sounded almost silly when Shepard said it. But it hadn't been. He'd made a promise to his commander, to his comrade, to his friend, to his lover. And he'd been forced to break it. But he shook his head in response.

"Garrus, I thought you were dead. I went to the end thinking you were dead—that Harbinger killed you. But you didn't die. You went back for me. Garrus, I'm not mad."

"You thought I was dead?"

"You were on my six when Harbinger hit us. The comm said everyone was gone. I figured that meant you too. You were my last thought up there." Her face clouded briefly.

"What happened? How?"

"I don't know. Really. It's still just vague pictures."

Garrus nodded. He wasn't sure if she was being honest, but he could wait. Jane was awake. She was still his. Everything else could wait. "How long until they let you out of here?" he asked instead.

"The docs told me a couple of days at most. Unexpected benefit of being rebuilt, I guess. They just want to make sure my biotics are fine. And then I'm free. Got plans Vakarian?" She smiled.

"How do you feel about Palaven?"


	6. Straightforward Propositions

__**A/N: ** A big, huge thank you to everyone who is following this story, favoriting this story, reviewing this story, talking to me about this story, and reading this story! I absolutely love the feedback! Reviews are always appreciated: they are the food authors live on :) As always, all of these characters belong to Bioware. And I'm just playing with them.

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><p><em>She's running, leaving the human shouts behind her. Shots fired. Exhaust burning. She runs from the field to the village. Mom. Dad. Ellara. She runs towards the batarians. The slavers. A firm knot of terror forming in the pit of her stomach.<em>

_ They'd always known it was possible. Out on the edges of the Terminus systems. They'd been warned by the humans, by the turians, by everyone. New comers with the smallest fleet. Prime targets. Her father kept a pistol in the safe in the bedroom. No one thought they would come._

_ She's still running. Blue dress flying behind her. Tears falling from her cheeks. Dirt curling between her toes, shoes lost long ago. Home. She has to get home._

_ Smoke assaults her nose. The fires are started, she knows this is just the beginning of the end. The people are gone. Almost. Fled or captured. It doesn't matter now. She hears screams. Her feet are carrying her towards them before her brain can stop her. _Ella!_ Her bare feet burn in the embers, blood marks her footprints from the broken glass. She can't feel it. _

_ A rough hand grabs her. Hand covering an already screaming mouth. Was it her? Did she start screaming? She can't remember making the noise. She bites drawing blood. Red. Not a batarian. She knows that much, she paid attention in school that day. The hand lets go and she falls to the ground. Coughing, on her knees. She turns—Tristan! Her heart leaps and she opens her mouth to speak. He silences her with a finger to his lips. She nods. The batarians must still be close. _Ella._ Her sister. She has to get home._

_ Her lips form her name, and Tristan nods in understanding. He motions for her to follow him, and he sets off at a quick pace leading her through twisting pods that were once their homes. Her heart is pounding, and she's sure he can hear it. And if he can hear it, the batarians can. She gathers the hem of her dress into her hand, the edges scorched from the fires. Her feet are starting to hurt, but the cool dirt feels good._

_ He turns suddenly pushing her flat. She hasn't seen anything. Hasn't heard anything. A second later she hears the shot and Tristan falls. Smoldering hole in his chest._

_ That's when she screams._

She woke in a heavy sweat. She hadn't dreamt of Mindoir in years. Not since she died the first time. Not since being sucked into the vacuum of space had given her a new perspective on helplessness.

Mindoir, it was such a long time ago.

Before Saren. Before Cerberus. Before the Reapers. Before she died. When she knew how to love without fear, and when she only thought about the things before her. She had nothing behind her.

She shivered and felt strong arms tighten against her. "Garrus," she breathed snuggling closer. Future, there was that word again. A word she let herself believe in because of him.

"Mmmm," he moaned still half asleep, "Whose Tristan?"

"No one, " she answered. But he was already asleep again his breathing smooth and even. In the hospital her slightest move had been enough to wake him, and he had been ready to get anything she might need. Now, when she was actually wrapped in his three-taloned arms he slept like he hadn't slept in weeks. She supposed that was true. As far as she could gather, she'd been the only one to sleep through the party. Not that Garrus had attended it, she thought guiltily.

She wormed her way closer to Garrus's chest hoping it would help her sleep. She'd been out of the hospital for eight days and on the turian ship for three. They spent a couple days with Liara and Tali before both of them returned home. It was a bittersweet parting. In the crucible, with Anderson, she thought she was dead. Thought she wouldn't see anyone again. But then she woke up, and they were there. All of them. She'd said her good-byes only to realize they weren't good-byes. But now, with everyone going home, Shepard honestly didn't know when she would see her two closest friends again. Even when she was with Cerberus and then later incarcerated, she knew she would find them again. Somehow. But there were no Reapers now, no galactic emergency to put them together again.

Hackett muttered something about medals for the crew. Another Star of Terra most likely. But this time everyone, even the non-humans, would get them. Mordin, Thane, and Legion too, albeit those would be awarded posthumously. She made Liara and Tali promise to come back. She'd had to choke back tears when she asked for the promise. They promised to come back. Also forcing her to promise to visit them on Thessia and Rannoch. See the house. When she nodded in agreement she felt a weight lift off her chest, she felt like she could breathe again. She couldn't remember feeling like she was going to suffocate, but now, knowing she would see them, she knew she could breathe. And that was strange.

They'll reach Palaven in the morning, and Shepard is nervous. Hackett never asked her to stay, but she felt the curiosity underlying the simple question, "Why Palaven?" She'd hastily inserted Thessia, Rannoch, and even Tuchanka into her travel plans. She was sure she would visit them all, however briefly, and not alone. But Hackett's curiosity wasn't what was gnawing at her, forcing sleep away.

She didn't know what Garrus would tell the Primarch or his family or his friends. He'd said he let them all know she was coming, but that wasn't the conversation that unnerved her. They called each other boyfriend and girlfriend, but only in private. They touched and whispered 'I love you' and she knew he would never leave her. But their relationship was still a secret, and she was nervous for him. She didn't know what it would mean when he said 'I love you' and they weren't alone. It didn't matter for her, sure the Alliance military might say something, but after destroying the Reapers she knew they would turn a blind eye to almost anything she did. And she didn't have a family anymore. It was just her. It was different for him, or at least, she'd gathered it was different. He'd never been forthcoming about his family's place on Palaven, but she'd gleaned it was important. He was a political figure there. A rather famous one, from what she'd been able to dig out of the extranet and from Liara's database. And while she had no idea what was expected of him, she was pretty sure it didn't include a human girlfriend—Commander Shepard or not.

So, she wondered what Garrus had told everyone, how he excused her presence. She wasn't his Commander anymore, he'd long since been released from duty, and the Primarch hadn't asked for her. When Garrus asked her to go to Palaven she'd said yes because the thought of being without him was physically unbearable but also because where else was she going to go?

Something about being on earth terrified her. She couldn't shake the memories that waited on every corner, in every stone, in the face of every child. She was Anderson, and the Illusive Man, and the child. She shuddered. The child. The one who told her he controlled it all—even the Reapers. And he gave her choices, but by then she'd lost so much blood she could hardly stand much less focus. But she remembered something about destroying them or controlling them and there was a third choice but she hadn't really heard it she'd been focusing too hard remaining upright, and she'd remembered what the Illusive Man had done. How he'd tried to control them and gone insane, and she remembered what she'd been trying to do since Ilos and before. And there was only one choice: destroy. She'd whispered good-bye to EDI and asked Legion for forgiveness, but she knew they would understand. So when EDI walked into her hospital room, she thought she'd seen a ghost, but she understood. The child lied. Destroying them was the only way to break the cycle, to kill the child. And even machines have a sense of self-preservation. At least, she thought that's what happened, but the child's words, foggy at the time, were quickly fading, and as the days went by she was less and less sure of what she'd seen.

She could hardly explain what happened up there to herself much less to anyone else. So while everyone else was celebrating, so relieved to just be safe, she'd been alone. None of them had stood toe-to-toe with as many Reapers or shouted so loudly at deaf ears or finally been asked to save everything when it was just too late. Sure, they'd watched their friends, lovers, families die but, to them, it was sudden and meaningless. To her it wasn't. She'd seen it coming. Knew it was coming. Knew it as surely as she knew how to breathe. And she was powerless. So, earth, it terrified her. Every time she saw the scars, saw the ruined buildings, she remembered how she failed.

She couldn't bring herself to feel the same way about Palaven, but she wondered about Garrus. She knew he'd been ignored too. He'd told her about his "task force" with an amused irony. She knew how most turians regarded humans: arrogant, impetuous, short tempered. And she knew he probably had to fight some prejudice after leaving C-Sec and serving on her ship. Even after Saren, she'd only earned a grudging respect. And now, he was bringing home a human girlfriend—heavens help them all. She almost laughed. Would have, even. If the girlfriend in question wasn't her.

She struggled restlessly against him, and it was keeping him awake. He knew she was trying to get comfortable, trying to push herself closer to him, trying to relax. Spirits, he wondered, what could she be so nervous about? She hadn't tossed that much the night before the Collectors or even before they went back to earth. He wondered if she didn't want to leave earth, she had just saved it after all. He knew Jane hadn't been born there, but humans had an oddly strong connection to their homeworld. He didn't quite understand it, but he didn't have to understand it to respect it and to know it mattered to her. He knew she was devastated by the damage, he could see that clearly on her face. But as far as he knew she had no family there. Not like Palaven for him: home, family, history. He'd grown up there, his family traced a long line through Palaven. Palaven was in his blood, written on his life.

Her history was buried under a memorial on Mindoir and shattered across the frosty plains of Alchera. Her home was an invaded colony and a crashed ship, at least, he hoped that's what her home _was_. He had no illusions about settling on Palaven, but back on Earth, before the Reapers, she'd mentioned a beach. He liked that idea. A beach. He would find her one. White sand, aquamarine ocean, and space as far as the eye could sea. No equipment lockers and bulkheads just clear skies and solitude.

But first, Palaven. Spirits, what was he going to say? "So I brought Shepard because she's my girlfriend? She's here in an advisory capacity?" He'd told everyone she was coming, but just not why. And he knew that was going to be asked. She wasn't a Reaper expert anymore. Fighting them, there was no one better in the galaxy, but salvaging the tech? She wasn't an engineer by any stretch of the imagination.

He winced as he remembered the hours he'd spent teaching her how to hack a locked door or boost the Mako's shields. She caught on fast enough, but she'd always wanted to move too quickly. Her normally steady hands were always impatient jumping a step. It was what made her a mediocre sniper as well, although he'd never admit it to her. She was always ready to charge first and shoot second. Never taking the time to set up the perfect shot. Popping the heat sink. Fidgeting while in cover.

Garrus could feel the tight, corded muscles beneath her skin. She was still stiff, he could see it in the way she moved, feel it beneath her skin when he held her, see it when she unconsciously stretched her left knee. He felt her shift in his arms again shoulders curling around one of his arms, legs lengthening to release tension. He knew how she looked, could visualize every line of muscle, the dips and the rises, the pocked rivers of scars, the map of freckles. He knew them better than he knew the sleep springs of his rifle or the bindings of his armor. He let out a sigh curling himself around Shepard trying to protect her from whatever was chasing her dreams tonight.

* * *

><p>Jane picked at her food throwing Garrus a sideways look, "This is really what turians think humans eat?"<p>

Garrus laughed, "Now you know how I felt on the Normandy. You'd pick up special food for the humans but not the dextros."

Jane looked a little embarrassed, "Was the food really that bad?"

Garrus nodded.

"Why didn't you say anything? I'm surprised you stuck around."

"Well there were plenty of other things: big guns, things to shoot, and this commander who needed someone to watch her six. She was important, see, and she had a tendency to rush the enemies first and find cover later."

She smiled at him, "Not that important." She shrugged. Garrus smiled too. He'd really missed her smile. Hell, he'd really missed _her_.

Jane was one of a handful of humans on the civilian transport. There was also a smattering of asari and plenty of volus in addition to the turians. Jane thought she saw a drell out of the corner of her eye, but when she turned for a closer look he was gone. And that made her think of Thane. His death was what he would have wanted, she thought, he'd died protecting them not slowly drowning in a hospital somewhere. But still, he was dead. His long journey finally over. She wondered idly about Kolyat, hoping he was fine wherever he was. A priest, she thought she remembered Thane mentioning. A son atoning for the father.

She glanced around the crowded mess again, only it wasn't a mess on a civilian ship, it was a cafeteria. She felt strangely out of place here, and not just because she was a human on a turian ship. The lines were wrong. Too harsh or maybe not harsh enough. She couldn't put her finger on why the proportions didn't quite match. But that wasn't what unsettled her. She hadn't felt this out of place since her first ship when she was 18. That, she concluded might be why, she couldn't remember the last time she'd been on a civilian ship. As a civilian. She was still Commander Shepard, no one asked her to retire, but she wasn't traveling as an Alliance marine or as a spectre. She was traveling as Jane. She couldn't remember the last time she hadn't been in command of something or someone. The translator was working hard to keep up with the steady hum of conversation but was failing. The buzz of voices faded into a foreign and indistinguishable piece of her surroundings. She wondered if Garrus had felt that way on the Normandy. So many things she'd never asked him. No wonder he spent so much time with the Mako or recalibrating the gun.

She looked up. He was staring at her frown lines, his face creasing, as much as it could. She smiled, shoveling some of the breakfast into her mouth. If she was honest with herself Garrus's breakfast looked even less appetizing, and that illicited a real grin on her face.

She raised her eyebrows, "Not bad."

"See, now it's definitely better than the Normandy."

She laughed. And Garrus laughed harder than he should have. As though they were both trying to convince themselves everything was all right. The turian ship was the Normandy and everything was same.

As their laughter faded Jane went back to watching the turians. She'd never spent much time with them in groups. She'd spent plenty of time with one particular turian, but she'd rarely seen them interact outside of combat situations. She wanted to know what she was getting into. She examined several of the female turians, subconsciously noticing just what Garrus was giving up to be with her. They were more delicate than she'd imagined but also stronger. Their lack of fringe and spurs gave them an unexpected grace in the same way that their addition gave the males an almost quiet dignity.

Mates were startlingly attentive to each other, something she hadn't expected. She knew they were a fiercely militant culture that focused heavily on the individual's responsibility to the community. She'd likened them in many ways to the ancient Romans and the even more ancient Spartans. So the tenderness between mates took her by surprise, she'd expected more stoicism. She found herself staring at a pair of turians. He brought her breakfast, helped her sit. She was evidently hurt and still in a great deal of pain, although she was going to great lengths to hide it. He labored unceasingly to make her comfortable. The silent agony in his eyes as he watched her made Jane's own heart ache and her heart went to him. He was careful and caring, but never overly affectionate, always almost at arm's length. It was so clear he loved her in his every move, in the way he watched her, in the way he moved with her.

"It's because we are so focused on our duty," Garrus said leaning in.

She turned to him, blushing, "What?" She hadn't meant to be so obviously captivated.

"It's why he's so attentive. Why all the males are. We're raised to sacrifice ourselves for the bigger picture but we mate for life. It's a paradox really. But we spend every moment with our love like it might be our last because we're always prepared to know it just might be. It's why the affection is so strained, just junder the surface. Escaping for moments through a look or a hesitant touch." Garrus watched her as he spoke. He longed to touch her, look at her like the turian she'd been watching. But he couldn't. Not yet.

"I thought you turians were all straight forward propositions," she joked.

He smiled, "Well, that's only when it's casual. You humans are so one dimensional about sex. What you say on ships and on shore leave won't get you a mate. And it's certainly not how you keep one."

Jane recognized the look on Garrus's face. "Should I have done something different?"

He smiled leaning closer unconsciously, "I'd say things are going well."

"That's good. I'd hate to have to relocate to Tuchanka."

"They might not be interested anymore. What with the genophage cured and all."

"Dammit Vakarian, I guess you're my only hope." They both laughed, and for a moment their imminent arrival on Palaven was forgotten.


	7. Home is Where

**A/N**: A big, big thank you to everyone who has been reviewing, favoriting, alerting, etc. You are all water to my soul :)

As always, Bioware owns all this stuff. It's their universe, but we get to play in it!

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><p>Palaven wasn't how Jane expected it. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't what greeted her on the ground. She'd grilled Garrus incessantly on their trip, but he'd eluded most of her questions when he could and when he couldn't he'd given her maddeningly cryptic answers. So, now, she found herself hot. Very hot. On a surprisingly tropical planet, and also mildly surprised at how pretty it was. She already knew about the radiation, every species did, but the information she'd gotten from Miranda said her Cerberus implants would keep most of it out. As long as she didn't experience prolonged exposure—another cryptic answer. Prolonged to whom? Jane wondered idly.<p>

That was one more thing that pulled at her: Miranda. She hadn't seen her since she'd killed her father on Sanctuary and then run off with Orianna. Jane had trolled the usual channels looking for any sign of her, but Miranda didn't bite. Eventually she'd just left a message with Liara, and Miranda had found her there. The note was short, no mention of where she was or her sister, but it had assuaged her concerns about the radiation, at least in the short run. She'd still packed an enviro-suit and some anti-rad meds just in case, although she couldn't imagine roaming the wilds of Palaven for any length of time. Prolonged or not.

The dock was teeming with life, and not just turians. Asari, volus, salarians, humans, and even a handful of krogan, the remnants of Wrex's promise at her long forgotten summit. The summit, she sighed, that seemed like a hundred years ago. How much had happened since then, and the krogan still waiting to go home and find their own female. They were pacing anxiously and Jane couldn't blame them, after all this time waiting for the end of the genophage and they were stuck on the wrong rock. She felt better off the ship, better than she wanted to admit to Garrus. He'd tried to sell the civilian transport as a time to relax, and if Shepard wasn't so used to being in charge all the time she supposed it would have been relaxing. But as it was, she was constantly on alert for the slightest change in the engines or the air supply or any number of a half a hundred things life in the navy had prepped her to hear.

Now, though, she was glad to be on the ground, and she considered that for the first time in her life she was actually looking forward to shore leave, radiation and all. And judging from Garrus's expression, he was too. He deserved to come home, she was just pleased to be here with him, all things considered.

His sister, Solana, met them at the dock. Jane gathered his father was still at work or back at their house, or possibly both. She hadn't quite figured out how turian jobs worked, at least not for someone as powerful as she'd gleaned the Vakarian family was. Garrus hadn't said anything, but she was getting awfully good at reading between the lines.

Garrus broke in the turian approximation of a smile when he saw his little sister craning her to see them over the crowd. He nudged Shepard's shoulder guiding her eyes to where his sister was waiting. He hadn't seen her since the Reaper attack, and it felt like years instead of just months. Things hadn't been great between then for a while, the time he spent on Palaven before the Reaper invasion had started to heal some of the wounds but not all of them. The few messages they'd been able to send after he left Menae had barely kept the worry at bay, and the relief he'd felt when he got word they'd made it out. But she was wrapping him in a warm hug before his thoughts could wander too far, "Garrus, finally." He could hear the worry seep out of her voice, and he was suddenly sorry he'd made her wait for him. It almost seemed childish now that Jane was awake and here, but he knew it wasn't. He knew he hadn't been wrong. Knew he'd never forgive himself if she'd woken up alone.

Sol finally stepped back, her sky blue eyes appraising him, searching for injuries, for any indication he'd been brought back in anything less than the state he'd left in. Then she saw Jane. Her eyes narrowing a fraction. "You must be Commander Shepard," her voice was almost accusing, and Garrus was embarrassed.

Jane smiled, "You must be Solana. Garrus has told me a lot about you. I know he was looking forward to getting back here."

"Yes, I'm sure he was." She looked at Garrus then back at Jane, "I'm glad you didn't actually die this time."

Jane looked at Garrus, they didn't talk about Omega much. She knew he'd left after her death, and as far as she'd gathered he'd been off the grid. Completely. But he didn't really talk about that time, and she'd been through enough to know how that felt. She didn't talk about Mindoir or the Blitz. Sure, she gave the odd pep talk, but that was different than having a heart-to-heart. They'd talked about Sidonis, but that was a case of murder. Lots of murder. But he never talked about his hits or why he left. And she'd left it at that. She'd seen the Shadow Broker's list, Garrus certainly made sure the punishment fit the crime. It was a grim thought, but she wasn't going to force him to relive that. Some things don't come out until they're ready.

Garrus suppressed a shrug at Jane's stare, he'd had no idea Sol was still upset. Well, he'd thought she might be, but he certainly didn't think she would take it out on Jane.

"Your leg looks like it's healing," Garrus said as a peace offering. Sol walked with a slight limp, but otherwise she looked fine.

"Yeah, it wasn't near as bad as Dad made it out to be. Not as bad as it could have been." She looked pointedly at his face. Jane remembered that turians didn't feel the same about scars as krogan…or herself.

"I'm glad. Is the house still—" Garrus began.

"Yeah. We're taking in refugees so it's crowded. But it survived the Reapers. Mostly. That's more than can be said for most."

"You're taking in refugees? Aren't there camps? Or some type of temporary housing?" Jane cut in. She couldn't imagine a human house being opened to strangers; the danger would be enormous, even with their newfound solidarity. But, she reflected as the words left her mouth, turians weren't humans. Not even close.

"Yes, there are camps. But everyone here helps out, and the camps are overcrowded. We're not the only family doing this. All of the major houses are. The house has been empty since—"

"Sol, I'm so sorry." Garrus reached out to touch his sister's arm.

She pulled away, "Me too."

Jane caught the look that passed between them as she stepped back. She knew Garrus's mom had died while he was on the Normandy with her. Probably part of Solana's hostility. She'd all but landed on Helos for the funeral, but he wouldn't go. He'd muttered something about saving the galaxy and not having the time. They'd fought over it—the first real fight they'd ever had.

"_Garrus Vakarian, you thick-skinned sonofabitch get your ass down there and see your family," she yelled not caring who heard. They were in the main battery, he hadn't dared come up to her quarters, and she knew the door wasn't that thick._

_He'd growled in response, mandibles quivering. He'd already turned away from her, "Dammit Shepard, not right now."_

"_She died, Garrus. You have to go to your family."_

"_We don't have time. You think the galaxy stops fighting because of the Vakarian family tragedy?" The ire in his voice bit her. She stepped back._

"_We have time. N7's been sending us across this galaxy as a fucking errand boy. We can make this one."_

"_No. Shepard I told you. I don't want to go."_

"_You have to say good-bye."_

_He snorted. "Like I said good-bye to you?"_

"_You bastard. This isn't the same."_

"_I'm done going to funerals Jane. I see you at every one. Every goddamn one of them. And I'm done."_

_She hadn't had anything to say to that._

"I'd like to," Garrus spoke softly, "Once we're home." Solana nodded turning away. Garrus grabbed Shepard's bag remembering again just how few clothes she actually had. Particularly of the civilian variety. She had that awful leather dress and the even worse spacer outfit. Thankfully Garrus got her to leave those behind, mainly through combing the stores looking for new clothes. She'd given him a list, and some sizes, and he'd done his best. Garrus, himself, hadn't brought much, he still had most of his belongings at the house. He watched Jane follow Sol wishing things had gone better but knowing, now, that he couldn't have expected that.

They threaded their way through the docks passing the milling refugees. The evacuation from Palaven had been quick and mostly thorough, and the return of the displaced was just as rapid. The planets of their brief diaspora desiring to regain some semblance of normalcy had sent them home, or to whatever was left of it. Everyone, it seemed, was eager to pretend the Reapers never happened. Watching the newly dispossessed Garrus understood why so many of the hierarch families were opening their houses. It was clear Palaven's strained resources were on the verge of breaking.

Like on earth, ramshackle shanties had sprung up in huddles around a lone intact building. As more refugees flooded back to Palaven there was less and less habitable space to put them. Those who no longer had a home or who were unable to gain entrance to camp simply had nowhere left to turn. This must be a logistical nightmare, Garrus mused. No wonder the Primarch as asking for help. What exactly that help was, Garrus wasn't prepared to guess, he'd never been particularly good at mobilizing civilians, and he wasn't sure what good a sniper was now.

Sol led them back to where the car was waiting, driver still inside. Jane shot Garrus a look when she noticed the driver. She'd figured they were wealthy from the way Garrus spoke about his father and his work on Palaven, but she'd never asked him about it. Hell, he hadn't even told her about his mother, she'd found that out for herself. She'd wanted to give him time to talk about it, the way he waited with her, but there suddenly hadn't been the time.

The car wound through the streets alternately avoiding rubble and makeshift shelters. In the environmentally controlled car, Jane was able to finally take in Palaven beyond the simple observation that it was hot. She was surprised at how green the planet was. Garrus had mentioned it was similar to Virmire, but she'd expected still to be more sparse, almost spartan, like it's inhabitants. She was amazed at how aliene everything looked. More so than anywhere else she'd been, Palaven looked like the product of its most intelligent occupants. Turian discipline pervaded life here in a way she'd never imagined: the dedication to craft, to life, to their work was everywhere. Each building seemed a testament to a single life's objective, and they were achingly beautiful. "No wonder you can make a rifle dance," she whispered.

"He what?" Sol asked.

Jane blushed she wasn't sure exactly how much Solana might want to know about her brother's talents, "Nothing." Garrus smiled.

If Shepard thought the city was beautiful nothing prepared her for the Vakarian family estate. The outer walls looked like they'd sustained minor damage, but Solana's assessment was correct the house was mostly untouched. The estate comprised several building spread over several acres. The wall was clearly keeping the jungle at bay, and Jane noted it was most obviously a jungle beyond the wall. Palaven was dangerous, she noted, in more ways than one.

"You know Garrus when I asked about your family's place after Menae, I was joking."

Garrus recalled that conversation, she'd noticed the generals saluting him. He shrugged, "No need to brag."

Solana watched the exchange paying close attention to Shepard. Could it be? They way he watched her, it was just battlefield intimacy, right? He hadn't so much as touched her since she'd met them at the port, but there was something almost deliberate about it. It felt so forced. She didn't know much about human expressions, not as much as Garrus did, so she couldn't read Shepard well. She thought she might have caught tenderness pass through her eyes when Shepard looked at her brother, but she couldn't be sure it wasn't her over active imagination. She knew the two were close. Garrus had only told her about half the battles they'd been through, and she knew it was enough to form unbreakable bonds. But she never thought her brother would be interested in anyone that wasn't a turian he just never showed any inclinations that way. But, she reminded herself, she didn't know a lot about her brother these days.

"The house has been in our family for hundreds of years. It wasn't always this big, but we've had a long time to expand." Solana explained as they pulled beneath the walls. "The main house is where we live, and the refugees are in the undamaged buildings. They get privacy, and a little bit of normalcy."

Jane was silent for a long moment. "Not every family has a house like this."

Solana laughed. It was sweet and high, not at all like her brother's deep staccato bark, "Spirits, no. We just happen to come from a very old and established family." Jane watched her looking at Garrus while she spoke. It was obvious the two siblings had been close. Once.

"It's stunning." Jane watched the buildings slide by.

"Garrus can give you a tour later. We have a radiation curtain so you should be fine if you stay on the grounds." Jane was a little stunned at this news. Radiation curtains weren't cheap but she looked around the Vakarian estate, neither was this.

"Oh. I've, uh, the radiation won't be a problem." Jane had long since come to terms with her Cerberus upgrades, but she still didn't like talking about them. She was also wary of letting other people know just how modified she was. The new information she'd found at the Cerberus base didn't help either, it was a lot more expansive than even she'd imagined.

Solana looked at her brother, clearly puzzled. "Shepard's not your average human," he said.

Obviously not, Sol thought, but she nodded as though that was clarification enough. Another turian had emerged from the house, he had similar marking to Sol and to Garrus, but they were different. Almost a slight derivative, Jane noticed. She thought he might be a relative until he took her bags to the house. She realized, stunned, that he was a servant.

"I will show you your room, Commander Shepard."

Jane nodded and followed the turian back to the house. Garrus started to follow her, but she stopped him, "I'll be fine. I think I can manage finding my room. Besides, you should talk to your sister."

Garrus stopped. He knew she would be fine, but that didn't mean he wanted to face his sister. Solana was an unstoppable force when she was upset about something, especially when she was justified. He almost protested even knowing it would be worthless. Duty, he reminded himself. It's why he was here on Palaven in the first place and not on a solitary beach. He watched her disappear through the door before turning back to his sister.

"You should've come back." She spoke quietly.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you? Some mission? Curing the genophage? Saving some scientists? Didn't Shepard have time?" She purposefully omitted Jane's rank.

"Jane—No, she, Commander Shepard, had nothing to do with it."

Her mandibles flared, "Jane, huh?"

"She didn't keep me from coming back."

"Then why didn't you?"

"I just couldn't—"

"What see her dead? You hardly saw her when she was alive even when you were here. I know things have been bad with Dad, but that's no excuse. What happened Garrus? We needed you. I've needed you. You should have come home."

"Shepard needed me." It was weak and a lie and he knew it.

"Spirits, Garrus what did she need you for? To watch her six? If she's half as good a soldier as the vids claim she is, she'd have been fine. And if she's half the human you claim she is, she would've let you go."

She was right. Shepard had begged Garrus to go, they'd fought about it. He hadn't spoken to her for days afterwards. But he hadn't left. Couldn't. Wouldn't. Didn't really matter now.

Sol hadn't been exaggerating, the house had been barely touched by the Reapers. Even if the other families weren't taking in refugees, it would have been almost criminal not to. In all the destruction, in all the ruin, Garrus would never have guessed this small corner would come through unscathed. It almost still felt like home. She was leading him to the southwest edge of the grounds. He knew why. The line of the Vakarians.

She stopped near the fence. "She's in there. I'll be in the house."

He listened to her feet crunch the grass, slowly fading into silence. He stared at the cemetery for a long time. He remembered when his grandfather was buried there, and then he thought about all the times he'd been certain he'd end up there too. Those days on Omega, especially the last ones, and then going through the Omega 4, and then Harbinger. There were the times with C-Sec too, when he'd been in some tough spots he'd thought would go sideways. And in the military, even in training. He'd always imagined he'd end up here first. Not his body, that would be almost certainly lost, but there would be a marker, at least. Something to brand the oldest son of Atrus Vakarian. He never pictured himself outliving his mother, even after she got sick. It just didn't seem possible. He was on the wrong side of too many odds to outlast her. But he did.

He didn't cross the barrier, invisible though it was, for a long while. He paced the outside of the cemetery, even took a few steps away from it. But eventually he found her newly dug grave. No marker, there wouldn't be one for a while he figured, until things settled down a bit. He sat in the brown grass, leaned against a tree, closed his eyes to the heat. He was silent, and the shadows lengthened. Words formed on his lips but eluded speech. He opened his mouth but the words escaped before they made sound. So, he was silent.

_He's just a boy and he's skinned his knee. Dad tells him to be a turian so it's Mom's arms he finds. He gets into a fight at school, he's punched someone for picking on Sol. Dad's lectured him on self-control, Mom's secretly glad he stood up for his sister. He's older now, and he wants to be a spectre. It's Mom he tells. Dad finds out through the official channels. Mom is at his C-Sec graduation. Dad is on business, he calls, but Garrus knew he wouldn't have come anyway. Mom doesn't tell anyone she's ill, she slowly drifts away, goes out less. Sol finds her collapsed on the floor. _

And there, somewhere in the memories, the words come spilling out.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there Mom. But I couldn't. I just. Funerals never used to bother me. With the military I was always at plenty, and I missed my squad, my friends, but I moved on. But then, there was Jane. And she died. You remember it's when I went to Omega. I think you knew then that it was because of Shepard. I went to her funeral, and something broke in me. I didn't even know I loved her then, not like now. But I just couldn't go to yours. Because I wouldn't have seen your face. I would have seen Jane's. And that's not fair. You deserve to be mourned. And I couldn't do that. Not there.

"So I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't a better son. Sorry I didn't make it easier for you and Dad. I know you fought about me. I heard it, even as a kid all those years ago. And I'm sorry I couldn't get you better care. I called in every favor I had, pulled every string, but it wasn't enough. And I'm sorry I wasn't with you at the end. I never thought I'd be here talking to you—always thought it would be the other way around.

"And, most of all, I'm sorry you didn't get to meet Jane. She's good. You'd like her. She saved us, all of us. Although I like to think I saved her a couple times too. But she's a warrior, Mom, like me. She's a fighter, and she has hope. So much of it. The things she's done. You wouldn't believe most of it, hell I was with her and I'm not sure I do most of the time.

"But she loves me. And I love her. And I'm sorry you won't get to know her. Get to be friends with her. And I'm sorry she's coming into a family that doesn't have you in it.

"I love you Mom. I miss you."

And then the words stopped, and he was silent a long time into the night.


	8. Paragon Interrupt

**Chapter Eight: Paragon Interrupt**

Jane stretched lazily, rolling over, expecting to find a certain turian next to her. She almost fell out of bed when the familiar back wasn't there to catch her, and she remembered suddenly where she was. _Palaven._ Of course Garrus wasn't in bed with her, she sighed sitting up. She imagined he'd had a lot of catching up to do yesterday. Her room was nice, human almost, although, she considered wryly, there are only so many ways to make a bed no matter your species.

She splashed some water on her face listening for the familiar sounds of morning movement. Hearing none she looked outside. Still dark, but she could see the faint rosy fingers of dawn on the horizon. She looked back at her bed, and she knew she wasn't going to get any more sleep alone. She sighed again, for the second time already that day. She'd grown so used to him sometimes it frightened her. She shrugged into pants and a T-shirt, poking her head into the hall. She figured an early morning walk of the grounds would be in order. She could clear her head, figure out the extent of the Vakarian estate, and elude most of the radiation. She padded noiselessly outside, only getting lost once on her way to one of the many doors. She slipped through the first door she found and into the cool morning. Steam rose off the dewy grass and the sight was simultaneously oddly familiar and strangely exotic.

She walked past the main house to the edges of the outlying buildings. The estate was silent, even the refugees were tucked away. Jane relished the solitude. Her hands opened against her sides, closing again slowly as though she could feel the air. She breathed deep savoring each unfamiliar tang. If she wasn't still so uncomfortably aware of being _The_ Commander Shepard she would have laid in the damp grass letting it soak through her clothes. She'd used to do that on Mindoir in the mornings before work or school or both. As it was, she slipped out of her shoes, toes curling into the dirt, sliding past the grass. She smiled. Simple pleasures, sometimes she thought that's why she worked so hard to defeat the Reapers. The politicians could talk all they wanted about galactic peace, but every now and again it came down to bare feet and dewy grass. She closed her eyes listening to her breath, her heartbeat, feeling the slight wind on her face, the ruffle of her hair.

"Good morning," a deep voice came from behind her.

The voice was vaguely familiar, but Jane hadn't heard anyone approach. She wasn't used to being taken unaware and she turned quickly, "Officer Vakarian."

It was Atrus, Patriarch of the Vakarian family. Jane hadn't planned on meeting him alone, especially not when she was standing barefoot in the middle of his estate before breakfast.

"I see you've discovered one of the more unexpected pleasures of Palaven," he looked pointedly down at her feet and the now soggy hem of her pants.

"Everything was so quiet. It reminded me of somewhere I'd been a long time ago." She hesitated. She wasn't sure what to expect from the elder Vakarian. Garrus spoke of him differently than he had when she'd first met him, but she was still wary.

He nodded curiosity alight in his dark eyes, "Walk with me."

Jane followed the older turian. He moved without hesitation, not quickly but not slowly either. Purposeful, she decided. She'd seen another Vakarian walk with a similar step.

He was quiet for a long while, "It seems we, turians, are in the uncomfortable position of being in debt. To a human." He looked straight ahead.

Shepard watched him out of the corner of her eye, "I had a lot of help."

"So I've been told." His voice was deep and his tone was dry, matter-of-fact. She could see the years of being a C-Sec officer in his bearing, she could hear it in his voice. Rigid and pointed, but not harsh. At least, not unnecessarily harsh.

They drifted into silence again. Streaks of pink wove their way through the sky, and Shepard was aware of birds. She heard the rustlings of the estate's inhabitants, the muffled grunts and barks of the newly woken. They soon left the main compound behind them emerging on a grassy hill. Shepard heard herself gasp before she was aware of it.

"Even after the Reapers, it's still a beautiful planet." Atrus's eyes scanned the horizon. The city spread before them punctuated by the empty hulk of a dead Reaper. The dark, curved body was a stark contrast to the sharp lines of the buildings. Beyond the city, in the jungle, the burned troughs of land cut the otherwise pristine forest. It was beautiful, even in it's destruction. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

"And dangerous," Shepard finally answered.

"Very." Atrus looked at her. "We are the product of this crucible. Our history is written on this land. A turian who has never set foot on Palaven is still the heir of its legacy."

"Some would say the same of earth." She remembered her own history. They drifted back into silence.

"You, humans, were all so hasty. So arrogant. So sure you were ready. So fanatical in your determination to understand." Jane realized he wasn't talking to her anymore. "You pushed and you pushed. But we were finally curbing you, showing you the rules. And then _you_ came along. Commander Shepard.

"You took my son. Not only was he running around with a spectre, it was a human spectre. I was certain he would never return. I was certain all of this would end poorly. Hunting a rogue spectre, visions, the geth, Reapers. It was certifiable.

"Then he went to Omega, the whole Archangel business was a mess. Yes, I knew about that, before he told me, before I saw what happened to his face. I know it had something to do with you, after you died, or were comatose, the details on that business aren't clear." She could hear the cop in him trying to piece together the puzzle that obviously didn't fit. The clues were all there, but they didn't add up, and the frustration was heavy in his tone.

"But you did something. I don't know what it was. I wasn't even aware of it at first; it wasn't until he came back to Palaven after you were arrested. But you know about him coming home, you found him on Menae and he went with you. _Again_.

"But he came back to Palaven different. I can't say how, but he knew what he had to do, and he didn't stop. He didn't try to cut corners like he used to. The red tape discouraged him, but he didn't try to go around it. He was frustrated, we could all see that, but he just persisted. He kept telling the story, recounting what he'd done, what he'd seen, while on your ship. Some of the things he told me, they couldn't have been true. Did you really kill a thresher maw?"

"Several."

"And the krogan? Are you really a battlemaster?"

"It's a formality. I had to help out one of my crew."

Atrus smiled, at least Shepard thought it was, "I swore he was exaggerating. But then he told me about the Collector base, about what he saw there. It was terrible. So, I made as much noise as I could. It wasn't enough. It was too late. We were all too late, except for you." He stared across the city on the dark Reaper husk. "I suppose, I'm trying to say thank you. It's been a long time since I've been in this position, so I apologize if it's not right. But you have my gratitude."

"Officer Vakarian—"

"Atrus."

"Atrus, I simply did what anyone would have done."

"If anyone would have done half the things you've done, the galaxy would be a vastly different place."

Shepard nodded at that, "I suppose I was more persistent than most."

He snorted. "I see why he likes you."

"Hmm?" Shepard turned to him in surprise.

"Garrus. I see why he follows you. I see why everyone follows you. It's hard not to. I'm not sure I would have followed you half the places Garrus has, but I'd follow you into battle."

"Thank you." She was taken aback, that was high praise indeed from a turian.

He shrugged obviously embarrassed. "I'm just glad I've finally met a human who understands the depth of that compliment."

"You're a hard bunch to please," Shepard felt herself growing comfortable to the older turian's presence. He was certainly authoritative, but she thought she liked him. Or at least, she thought she could like him given the time.

"I wasn't prepared to like you. Old habits die hard." He turned away from the hill and back towards the estate. The dawn moved quickly after the sun rose, the rosy fingers transforming into clear blue sky.

"I know." She followed him.

"Thank you for bringing him back."

Shepard nodded. She wanted to say _of course_, reassure him that Garrus was always safe. But she thought of Thane, Legion, Ashley, Mordin, Anderson, even Jenkins; and she couldn't say anything at all. Atrus watched her, saw the words turning over in her mind watching, as she stayed quiet. Garrus had told him about that too, the memories she carried with her of all the men she'd lost. Not many soldiers could do that; the burden was heavy and the heart not always strong enough.

"I know you didn't keep him away when Lucia died. I didn't before. But now I do."

Shepard nodded. There was nothing to say in response. No condolences that would ease his pain. She didn't know much about their marriage, Garrus never spoke of it, but she could hear the pain in his voice. He missed her, missed the constant presence, and she knew he was still mourning.

"Breakfast? Sol will worry if I'm not there." He offered his arm. Shepard's stomach rumbled in response.

* * *

><p>Garrus looked over at Jane, her brow furrowed, sorting through the datapads piling them almost aimlessly into several stacks. She didn't look up, just quickly assembled the groupings. Garrus knew she'd never been a cop, she didn't have the patience. She was a brilliant tactician, but that was not the same as being a cop. Not even close. He could feel his old C-Sec days coming back to him. The hours spent combing through files searching for the clue, the break that would show the pattern. The one moment where everything would become clear. All the leads, the pointless searches, would distill themselves into that perfectly transparent moment.<p>

She looked up at him frowning, "Garrus, there's nothing here. Nothing that isn't happening on a hundred other worlds."

He shook his head, "The pattern's there. We just have to figure it out."

"Garrus, it's just random theft." She didn't like it, but that didn't mean it wasn't happening. She couldn't stop a hundred petty thieves, nor could their six member force.

"Not on Palaven. That doesn't happen here."

He was being hopelessly obstinate. She sighed, he was romanticizing again, "Turians aren't the only ones on Palaven."

"No, Shepard. It's not that. It's that the others on Palaven, the volus and the asari, they know the rules and they know what will happen if they break the rules. The volus make a killing here, so they don't break our laws. We don't have petty thievery. At least not on this magnitude." He paused sorting through for the datapad he'd just scanned, "And we certainly don't have kidnappings."

She frowned again reaching her hand out for the information. Her eyes searched the pad quickly noting the keywords. Her frown deepened. Lips pursed, "No, that's strange. But I don't see what it has to do with everything else we've got." She motioned at the stacks of datapads Victus had given them earlier that day. He wanted them to investigate a series of crimes that had made their way to his desk. Victus thought they were related, and the police were too busy trying to organize the refugee centers and rebuilding efforts to thoroughly investigate.

"It's there."

They were in the office back at the Vakarian estate. It was late, the house was quiet. Shepard put her head in her hands rubbing her temples and squeezing her eyes shut. Garrus knew she would roll her head back on her shoulders next trying to ease the tension.

"So, my Father." He'd wanted to ask her about it all day, but they hadn't had a moment to themselves until now. She showed up in the kitchen with his father this morning, and she was smiling. His father had clearly been pleased as well. He was baffled, if he'd expected anyone to give Jane a hard time it was his father not Solana. She still wouldn't talk to Jane. He sighed, but looked pointedly at her waiting for her to respond.

"He's very nice." She was choosing her words carefully, toying with the clearly nervous Garrus.

"Nice and Atrus Vakarian normally don't go in the same sentence."

Jane smiled, "I can see that. I wouldn't want to be on the other side of him, but he's a soldier Garrus. He respects you, although I don't think he'll tell you that."

"He told you that?" The things Jane could do, he thought.

"No. But it was there, between the lines. Why else do you think he listened to you? He did go to the Primarch, Garrus, on your word."

Garrus shrugged. "I thought this would go the other way around."

"I know." Jane watched him eventually turning back to the datapads. It was late. She'd been up since dawn, and it had been a long day. The meeting with Victus had gone smoothly enough, she liked the Primarch. She'd grown to respect him while he was on the Normandy. He'd sacrificed a lot in the war, including his son, but he still carried himself well. Better than most. And he'd appeared pleased enough that she was there, a bit wary, but pleased. Thinking of Victus, "Garrus, what did the Primarch want with you?" He'd asked to speak with Garrus alone just before they left.

Garrus cleared his throat, "He, uh, he knows."

"What?" She ran through the Primarch's time on the Normandy, she and Garrus had hardly been in the war room at the same time together much less been affectionate in his presence. When would he have seen anything.

Garrus chuckled, "I forgot at first too. Obviously. On earth. We were a bit caught up in each other."

_Taloned hands reach out to her, pulling her close. She lets him. Armor and all. He tries to make it sound casual, like it's not big deal, but she can hear the tension in his voice, the worry, "And Shepard, forgive the insubordination, but your boyfriend has an order for you…come back alive. It'd be an awfully empty galaxy without you."_

_ She can smell him, the rough odor from the fight and the dirt, even a little bit of earth. She clutches at his narrow waist pulling herself uncomfortably close to his carapace. She leans up, into him, and he meets her halfway. Her knees go weak when they kiss and she can't breathe. She presses hard against his mouth, hungry, thirsting for his kiss. The world fades to black, and for a half a second she forgets Hammer and the Reapers and the battle. She's on the beach with Garrus. Retired. _

_ But reality pushes back at her, and she's back on earth and she needs to go. The knot is forming in her chest, and it's hard to breathe, and in a moment she won't be able to speak. So she breaks away. Sooner than she'd like. "Goodbye, Garrus. And if I'm up there in that bar and you're not—I'll be looking down. You'll never be alone." And then she has to walk away because if she doesn't she'll never leave. Earth will burn and she won't care._

_ She hears him whisper, "Never" and she knows he's watching her. But she can't turn around. She can't stop. And then she's through the door, and she can breathe._

Garrus saw her relive the memory through the pained look in her eyes, she managed to whisper, "I suppose we were." Her voice suddenly strained, "So, what did he say?"

"He's not going to tell anyone for now. Honestly, he's not sure how serious it was. I think he's hoping I'll pick a nice turian girl once things settle down. He obviously wasn't paying that much attention."

"Not serious, hmmm," Jane managed half a smile, "You really are a bad turian, aren't you?"

She looked so beautiful then, in the half light from the lamp, a smile playing across her face. He crossed the table to her in one swift movement. "Garrus," Jane started to say, but he cut her off kissing the unfathomably soft lips and silencing the objections before they could start. He pressed her against the table, roughly. Datapads clattered to the floor, and they both paused expecting the ruckus to rouse someone in the house. Their hearts pounded, and their breath met in short gasps, muscles tensed, eyes turned towards the door. Garrus didn't think Jane had ever stayed that still, not even when she was supposed to be in cover. Minutes passed, and it felt like hours.

Garrus turned back to the woman in his arms; he forced himself further into her pinning her against the table. She let out a soft swell of breath hoisting herself onto the table locking her legs around his. He slid his hands up to her arms holding them against the table. She struggled once, squirmed against him playfully, he tightened his grip mouth moving down her neck, hands holding her down. He was rewarded with a soft moan. He tskedher, "Quiet." She gave him an impetuous stare and he resumed his trek down her delicate skin.

She stopped fighting against his hold, and he held both her hands in one of his using the other to ease her out of some of her clothes. It was more difficult to work himself out of enough of his own clothes with one hand, but he managed despite a smirk from Jane, "I could help you with that." She wiggled her still trapped hands.

"Not tonight." And his lips met hers again. Her legs tightened against him pulling him into her, and they didn't ease up. She shivered against his hold as he sank into her, and he felt the pleasure descend along his spine the deeper into her he pushed. He took her as quietly as they both could manage. Forcefully, craving the warm wetness between her thighs, reveling in each shudder, each stifled sigh of desire. The table creaked rhythmically under them, and he paused more than once when he thought he heard someone. But her legs forced him on, pulsing with him, not allowing him to stop. He could feel her thighs squeeze him, back arching as she quivered against the hands still pinning him to the table. He released her hands when he came, unable to divide his attention any longer, collapsing onto the table next to her exhaling deeply, adrenaline still coursing through their veins.

She twisted her hands, rolling her wrists, easing the stiffness out of them. He hadn't broken the skin, or really, even hurt her. Much. She looked over at him. They were both panting. Sweat slicked skin and disheveled hair. She smiled. He hadn't looked at her like that since she woke up. He certainly hadn't been that rough with her. She missed it. Missed the playfulness of it, the predatory desire, of course, it was only because he played the part of prey too that she loved it so fervently.

"I've missed you, Garrus Vakarian."

He pushed himself onto his elbows fumbling at the clasps on his clothes. She was still lying on the table where he'd left her. Splayed out, spread-eagled, desire crept across his face again. "You too, Jane Shepard." He tossed her pants at her.

She grinned, "You really are a bad turian."

"The worst."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: First of all, thank you to everyone who has been reading, reviewing, favoriting, and alerting. Thank you for all the wonderful feedback (both positive and constructive). You know how happy you make me! So please continue :)

Here is the standard disclaimer about Bioware's ownership of these characters, and how I'm just playing around.

Also, we're starting to get into the meat of the new story. So more danger, adventure, love, and old friends are in the works.

As always, enjoy!


	9. Plus One

**Chapter Nine: Plus One**

Solana bit back the repartee already on her lips struggling to keep the irritation from showing on her face. She was in the midst of another pointless meeting. The third such meeting in as many days, and it likely wouldn't be the last. She knew it was an honor to be part of the hierarch, but right now, she just didn't see it. Beyond her she could hear Phaedras, "War rations are not necessary if we simply restrict the number of incoming refugees. Palaven has become the hub, not only for those turians passing on to other colonies, but for a dozen other races as well. What debt do we have to them?"

"I assume, Senator, you are not including turians in this _generalization_?" Terren's mandibles were closed matching his purposefully even speech.

"Of course not." The slightly younger senator was quick to agree.

Solana looked at the four other turians in the room, the five of them needed to bring a plan before the Primarch in two days. And they had nothing. Not even a scrap of anything, and they couldn't agree on what needed to be done. Solana knew grudges ran deep between Terren and Phaedras, but she didn't know why Irris and Kallen were being obstinate. As far as she was concerned the problem facing them was larger than any petty differences between individuals, but she also just wanted to get out of this room. And she knew the older turians were using their relative independence from the Primarch to air their grievances. She wouldn't mind, precisely, she just didn't want to be a part of it. And the way this meeting was going, they wouldn't let her remain neutral much longer.

"What debt indeed?" Irris's high-pitched voice silenced the room, "These aliens fought with us and for us. Some would say we're almost comrades. Besides, if we can't manage Palaven those humans will come and take care of everything, and we don't want to owe anything else to them." Solana suppressed a sigh, the humans, it was always the humans with Irris. Solana wondered what the humans had ever done to her, but she couldn't imagine Irris had ever met more than a handful of them.

"We should begin rations regardless of our immigration problems," Solana finally said. She was the most junior member of this particular committee, and they all looked at her with a measure of shock whenever she spoke. Nonplussed she continued, "those highest in the hierarch can start—everyone will follow if we set the example." She stopped, but knowing some of the hierarch senators continued, "And no black market, a scandal is exactly what we want to avoid right now."

"What about the refugees?" Phaedras pursued unwilling to admit defeat yet.

"The refugees will continue. If Earth, Thessia, and Tuchanka can care for ours, the least we can do is return the favor." Her voice was firm, and she hoped it carried more authority than she felt.

"Your family certainly has assumed that mantle easily enough," Irris volunteered.

Solana resisted the temptation to snort. She managed to keep her voice steady, "Yes, Commander Shepard has been most helpful to all of us. She is the main reason we are still here."

Irris, however, was unwilling to retreat, "She certainly didn't leave us much."

"She left us a planet and our lives," Solana retorted. Solana might not care for Commander Shepard, for personal reasons, but Irris was coming dangerously close to insulting her brother. Garrus, as far as she was concerned, was a hero who saved Palaven, "And if we don't solve the food crisis, we will have squandered both." Solana hoped that would settle the matter. She wondered if Garrus knew the scandal he would cause by bringing the human home. Probably not. Not that it would have stopped him, even if he had.

"Senator Antilus does have a valid point, we know very little about why Commander Shepard is on Palaven," Terren continued. Solana should have known he would side with Irris, he'd been trying to get her to argue his case since yesterday.

"You should ask the Primarch," Solana answered. She knew none of them would dare to bother him.

"Or your brother?" It was Kallen, one of the oldest members of the Senate and the most senior member of their little committee. He rarely interposed himself in their squabbles, and Solana was not relieved that he was inserting himself into this particular one.

"My brother has nothing to do with her," Solana snapped the thin layer of patience finally frayed beyond recognition.

The small group around the small table in the small office fell silent. Solana glared at each of them in turn. She may be the youngest, but she was still a Senator. She was their peer, of sorts. The conversation slowly resumed turning back to the issue at hand.

The meeting dragged on for several more hours, although thankfully no further mention was made of her brother or Commander Shepard. It was gossip of course. Nothing was secret on Cipritine, at least not in the political circles. And Commander Shepard was something of an exoticism, so naturally they would want to talk about her. Solana just wished her brother wasn't implicated in such gossip, but he'd brought her, so naturally it fell on him. She hadn't heard any of the more sordid tales, but she could guess at them, and if she hadn't known Garrus she could maybe believe some of it. But she knew him, knew how he felt about flesh. The way he looked at the asari, even the dancers, there was no lust there. And he'd had quite a reputation back on the Citadel, at least from what little she'd gleaned from Arillia, and that reputation hadn't included humans. She managed to push the thoughts of her brother and _anyone _from her mind as the meeting droned on; nevertheless, she still couldn't bring herself to focus. She knew they wouldn't agree on anything tonight, and tomorrow she'd be in the same room with the same people having the same conversation.

By the time Kellen finally adjourned the meeting it was dark. Solana sighed closing her eyes briefly. Another day gone. She was honored to be a senator; it was everything she'd dreamt of being as a child, but she never thought it would involve so many pointless meetings. Meetings she'd expected, but not the pointless kind.

Her omnitool flashed with a message. She thumbed it open. Avicenna. She smiled despite her foul mood. He would be just what she needed. He always was.

She traversed the now deserted corridors quickly descending two floors and across the complex. Avicenna was hunched over his desk, and Solana guessed his day had been about as productive as hers. The smile on her face widened and she paused in the doorway her gaze lingering on his concentrating form. Cenna was many things, but he was always focused. She admired it about him. It made him an exemplary senator.

He finally looked up, relief flooding his face, "I'm glad you were able to tear yourself away."

"It wasn't easy. I'm convinced they could bicker for hours over where to hold the meeting."

Cenna chuckled, "So, no news on how we're going to manage these rapidly dwindling resources?"

Sol shook her head, "The colonies are claiming they have no surplus for export. And on the committee, half of them want to deny entrance to refugees, the other half are afraid of the humans taking too much control, and no one wants to impose rations. Everyone's afraid of morale if we impose rations."

"Sounds about the same as my day. We don't have enough space for the new refugees. Have you seen the slums? It is appalling. This is Palaven, not some batarian colony or Omega." Avicenna shook his head in disgust. Solana remembered when he'd made the trip out to the slums to see personally just what the conditions were. He'd come back in a black mood that even her most ardent attentions hadn't been able to overcome.

She looked at his desk. It was covered in datapads, notes, files, and half a hundred memos to himself, "The machinery of government never sleeps," she muttered.

He looked almost sheepish, "Ah, yes, that is the truth. But it will run without us for a few hours." He rose from the desk motioning for her to follow, "Shall we?"

Several hours and as many drinks later Solana began to feel the tension ease out of her muscles. She rolled her shoulders feeling the knots uncurl. She raised the drink to her mouth slouching back in the chair. The bar was nice, much nicer than she expected, even though Cenna had never chosen poorly on their dates. If that's what they were. He'd never said as much, but well, they definitely weren't just friends anymore, at least she was fairly sure they were more than that.

There was something to be said for a man with unlimited funds, she thought. She was almost surprised something like this existed after the war, but she knew it was just a product of the Reapers. Where there's money and a desire to forget there will be a pretentious bar waiting, although Sol wondered indolently if Tuchanka had any bars like this. The thought made her smile despite herself. Regardless, a lot of money was changing hands here, and quickly, and she knew none of it could be trusted. The opulence ran the fine line towards the shady.

"It's almost sickening, isn't it?" Avicenna watched her wandering eyes. "I do wonder where it all comes from. I don't recognize half these markings."

Sol didn't either. Cenna's house was nearly as old as her own and far wealthier. All the same, she still knew better than to ask how he could afford all of this. She simply nodded in agreement.

"I never used to think turians would gain in someone else's loss. But the galaxy marks us all it seems," he continued.

"It does," she looked into her drink. "Who would have guessed the two of us would be part of this?" Sol looked at him conspiratorially. They'd served their two years together and never lost touch. She was surprised when he'd become a senator, but no more surprised than when she'd been appointed.

He laughed, "Not me." The Reapers had decimated the Senate and the two of them, among many others, had risen to fill the empty spaces. It was bittersweet, and sometimes agonizing. They finished their drinks and Cenna ordered another round.

"You should have heard them. Talking about debts and immigration as though that would solve our problems. And then Irris started in on the humans. If it's not the humans, then it's the krogan. I think she would blame the elcor if given half the chance."

Cenna laughed, "Old grudges die hard." He raised his now full glass in a half toast.

Solana responded in kind, "If only it was an old grudge! Phaedras and Terren, now there are two turians who know how to hold an old grudge!"

"It is a tradition." Cenna replied only half joking. Sol smiled, she wouldn't have if it had been earlier in the day, but the meetings and the committees were slowly become a fragment of the past.

"Speaking of humans, I hear you have one in your house," he looked at her expectantly.

"Yes, we do." She did not want to have this conversation again. Especially not with Cenna.

"It is _the_ Commander Shepard, correct?"

"Yes, she came home with Garrus." Sol tried to make it sound like he'd brought home a stray varren.

"Really?" he looked at her over the rim of his glass, "that is interesting."

"No. It's not. Stop making gossip."

"So you don't think it's interesting that your brother brought back a very attractive and famous human female?"

"I don't. Besides, if you knew Garrus…"

"Because you know him so well." Avicenna snorted. Sol glared at him. "I don't mean it quite like that. He's just not the same turian who was complaining about C-Sec red tape three years ago."

Sol had to admit that was true, "They've been through a lot together."

"I've seen the vids."

"Seriously, Cenna, Garrus would never look at a human that way."

"I'm just saying three years is a long time."

"She was dead for two of them."

"And we all know how that turned out." Cenna paused, he knew he'd almost gone too far. "You've heard about Valens?"

Sol shook her head. She knew he was trying to change the subject and she was grateful, "No. Is he back?"

"Apparently. He set himself up on one of the outlying colonies after his family was exiled. They backed Saren financially, you remember. Anyways, it seems he's made himself a name and got some new colony markings. But he's back. He looked me up a week or so ago."

Sol looked surprised. Everyone had heard about the family's fall, but she hadn't thought about it much since it appeared in the news, "I haven't though of him since basic. Remember that time—"

"We screwed up the settings on his visor? Hah! He didn't get one kill that day. I thought he was going to kill one of us on accident." Cenna laughed, the memory was as vivid for him as if it had happened yesterday, "I don't think he ever found out it was us."

Sol barked a laugh; the prank had been one of their better ones. They had always been trouble together, ever since they were kids. Now, it seemed, wasn't any different. It was just a new kind of trouble. "We're lucky we didn't get caught."

"We're lucky we didn't get caught for a lot of the things we did back then," Cenna was quiet for a moment staring at the remarkably beautiful turian across from him. "Those were the days, weren't they Sol."

"Before we had responsibilities," she muttered into her cup.

"Yeah, you know, the good old days when we just had a gun. Shoot our way out of anything," he gave a wry smile neither he nor Sol were soldiers. "But I know what you mean. It seemed simpler then, we weren't responsible for several million people. Just ourselves and our squad. And it was so clear what needed to be done."

He drained his class. It clinked the table louder than he intended when he set it down. Sol looked at him. She knew he was ready to go. Now was the part she hated, would they part as friends or something else, it was the same moment every time. "Are you coming with me tonight?" he asked as though she had a choice. As though she wasn't drawn to him. As though he didn't have this invisible, insurmountable hold on her.

"Yeah."

* * *

><p>Jane watched Garrus's purposeful step in front of her, the lithe movements of corded muscle, the predatory awareness of a turian sniper. She rarely got to see him from <em>his<em> six, normally she was the intrepid leader. She might have to suggest he lead more often; she was enjoying the view from back here. She knew it might also just be the loneliness, but she doubted it. Even though she missed Garrus more than she wanted to admit, even to herself. They hadn't had a moment to themselves since the night in the office four days ago, and she needed him. Her body needed him. Her heart needed him.

She adjusted her helmet in her grasp. It was tucked under her arm, she was too hot with it on. She'd contemplated leaving it back at the estate, but Miranda's warning of "prolonged exposure" rang in her head, and she'd grabbed it just in case. Her pistol hung comfortably at her side. She looked up at Garrus's Viper rifle slung over his shoulder. She'd offered to get him a new gun on several occasions, but he'd always preferred the Viper. _His_ viper, she corrected herself.

They were quiet as they made their way through the outlying districts of Cipritine where most of the refugees who had failed to find sanctuary were clustered. There were a few prefabricated hovels, but it was mostly stray steel or tarps that had been appropriated for shelters. Garrus grimaced as they passed another prefab hut with too many bodies packed inside. She could see the pain on his face, and her heart broke for him. He'd lived on the ass end of Omega for two years, and she knew he was accustomed to seeing poverty, but this was Palaven. And she knew it was different. And she knew why.

She reached out to touch him, but she stopped herself. Not here. Not now. Even in the slums there was still someone watching. She knew there was gossip, Solana had made that quite clear yesterday. She sighed. She didn't want to push Garrus before he was ready, but, hell, this was getting to be exhausting. She had some inkling on how turians viewed interspecies relationships: flings. That's it. It was shore leave exoticism at best, and certainly not something you brought home after the war. So she knew why he hesitated, and she didn't blame him. He had a lot of pieces to pick up at home, but they were going to get caught sooner or later if he didn't say anything.

She pushed her frustration to the back of her mind; they were here to investigate the kidnappings. Neither she nor Garrus nor anyone else on their team had been able to find a connection between the data the Primarch had bestowed on them several days ago. There was nothing that connected them. The kidnappings were all seemingly unrelated, neither the victims nor their families knew each other. And as far as the thefts were concerned, Jane wasn't even sure the stolen goods had made it to Palaven. They were at a dead end.

It had been Garrus's suggestion to investigate the slums for any more evidence. Maybe someone had seen something, he'd offered. It was a vague hope, but it was all they had for the moment, so she'd agreed. Veyla and Icarian were on the other side of the city looking into another cluster of crime, while Cirrus and Evander were looking into the spaceport's records. Jane doubted either of them would find anything, but they had to keep doing something.

She looked around the narrow streets no hover cars made it this far out of the city, or off the main roads, so the buildings clustered closer together. Jane sometimes wasn't sure where one stopped and another began, although she considered it probably didn't matter with the little privacy the screens provided. No wonder the larger houses were taking in refugees. She briefly considered asking Garrus if he open the house to more refugees, but she knew the Vakarian house was filled to capacity. Any more and the modicum of decency the house provided would dissolve.

"This is it." Garrus's voice startled her. He hadn't spoken since they'd set out. She looked at the small hovel he pointed to. It was prefab just like the rest of them, and utterly unremarkable.

"Kidnapping?" she asked. He nodded mouth tight.

The door was locked, someone had managed to splice some electricity, and Garrus pounded on the door. A young, emaciated drell answered the door. He couldn't have been more than twenty. Garrus hid his shock well; Jane knew he assumed the victims would be turian. The drell looked up with questioning eyes.

"You filed a police report." Garrus stated more monotone than he'd intended, and Jane knew it was because he was surprised.

The drell was silent. Jane could see another figure moving in the background. She nudged Garrus encouraging him to follow her eyes.

"He don't speak Common," the figure said moving into the light. "And as you can see, we have no translators."

It was a batarian. Jane didn't know any of them had fought on Palaven. Although she shouldn't have been surprised, they'd had to have preferred Palaven to Earth. "I take it you do," she replied coolly.

"Yeah. You cops?" He looked accusingly at their armor and weapons.

"Not quite, but we're looking into the disappearances." Garrus spoke with a measured tone watching the batarian intently.

"They went missing a couple weeks back. Not much we could do. We looked, but, well, we thought they might have gotten a ride off world. Hitched one, you know?" the batarian shrugged.

"They?" Jane remembered the report only mentioned one disappearance.

"Yeah, a turian and a batarian. There aren't many of us left you know, we gotta watch out."

"I'm aware." Jane wasn't sure if the comment was meant for her personally or not, destroying the relay didn't sit well with her. Batarians or not, she hadn't made that decision lightly. She doubted the batarian knew who she was, but she was never sure, and it made her uncomfortable.

"A batarian?" The turian was in the report, the batarian wasn't.

"Yeah, he fought just like me. Merc work, but when the Reapers were done we didn't get paid and we couldn't get off world. So, we holed up here. Got a couple more alley rats, and we've been making do."

Jane looked at the drell again. Emaciated he may be, but he still looked well enough to hold himself in a fight. His declared ignorance of Common might also be a trick, and if it was, it was a good one.

"Where were they when they disappeared?"

"Spaceport. Looking for work or a ship. Something. We don't last long here without the anti-rad meds, and those aren't coming."

She hadn't considered the anti-rad meds. Of course, he would need those. She would too if she didn't have her implants and her enviro-suit. She wondered how many others down here needed them. The thought made her sick.

"They were both at the spaceport?" Jane asked again.

The batarian nodded. Jane turned to Garrus, "Maybe Cirrus and Evander uncovered something useful."

"Maybe." Garrus turned to leave.

"What were their names?" Jane asked.

The batarian looked surprised, and so did the drell, Jane thought he probably knew a little bit of Common. "The batarian was Mallik and the turian, Celliste." The batarian caught Garrus's eye, "Yeah, Calliste was a female. But that's in your file, right, with the missing batarian?"

Garrus shook his head. Jane could feel the weight settle on his shoulders. The walk back to the office was quiet. And hot.

Garrus's team had appropriated a small corner and an office of the local police station, and it quickly filled with notes, papers, maps, and half a hundred other minutiae. Cirrus and Evander hadn't found anything at the spaceport. There was nothing in the logs, and no one had seen anything: neither the officials nor the dozens who made it their home. Icarian and Veyla found another missing person, but they hadn't got a lead. Just another name for their steadily growing list.

"Did you look into the theft?" Jane asked Evander.

He shook his head, "No, just the kidnappings. We thought we'd be as focused as possible." His brown eyes were worried. She could tell he was frustrated too, hell, they all were. Victus promised them their team would be his best, and Garrus had been pleased to see Icarian and Veyla, two of his Reaper task force. So Jane had been optimistic at first, but then days slogged on, and they didn't get any closer.

"We'll take a look at those tomorrow." She looked to Garrus for confirmation. This was not her team. She tried to be careful, but it had been a long time since anyone but her gave the orders.

"We have two more disappearances. Maybe they will be the key," Veyla suggested. She was pretty, and Jane knew at least Icarian found her attractive.

Garrus was at the board drawing a map with pushpins in his hand. No matter how far technology advanced, there was still something about physically manipulating the evidence, Jane reflected. "All right, let's start again. Where was everyone seen last? Any groupings?" she asked looking hopeful.

The run-down took less than an hour, but they sat for another desperately trying to force a pattern that wasn't there. They had new names, but no new leads. Another dead end. The names would be run—tomorrow. Jane knew they were all drained; they'd all put in long hours since they'd been given the task earlier that week. And she knew it wouldn't do any of them good to push past exhaustion. She'd lost count of how many times Garrus had found her asleep at her desk datapad in hand back on the Normandy. He'd always scolded her, carrying her to the bed. She missed those days, suicide missions and all. They had been good days flying through the black.

Garrus released the team well after midnight, and she knew they would all be back just after daybreak tomorrow. Just enough time to sleep. There was no banter as the turians filed out of the office. They were a close team, but they were tired. She didn't know them well, but they'd taken to her quickly enough, and they hadn't asked any questions—she'd been grateful for that.

"So much for retirement, huh?" she asked when they were alone.

"We'll get there," he promised. She could hear the fatigue on the edges of his voice. He almost slipped his arm around her but stopped. The police station was nearly empty, but not empty enough for him to risk anything.

He settled for watching her move, the stiffness was gone from her stride now; the flexibility was back in her movements. He could see it when she held her helmet, slung her pistol, propped her feet unceremoniously on the table. She was healing, steadily, everyday. She caught him staring and smiled. Spirits, he missed her. Missed the feel of her next to him at night, the way he would inhale her hair when she turned over, the twitch of her muscles as she dreamt, the lazy stretch as she woke in the morning.

"I miss you Garrus," she murmured softly when they were in the dark confines of the car. She slipped her hand into his squeezing it gently.

"I know." He didn't look at her. At least, he tried his hardest not to. "I'm sorry. I just…"

"You don't have to explain anything Garrus. I just want you to know I miss you."

"Yeah, I miss you too Shepard." Garrus paused for a long while trying to form the next part of what he wanted to say. "I'm not ashamed of you, you know."

Jane was surprised. She expected a lot of reasons for his silence, but shame was not one of them, "Garrus, if you wanted something closer to home you would've picked that long ago. I know you're not ashamed of me. All I have to do is look at you. Besides," she grinned, "with those scars the best you can hope for is a krogan or maybe a blind salarian but the scourge of the Reapers…"

He grinned back, "I knew you were lying when you told me I looked rugged."

"The krogan told you that. I'm pretty sure I said you'd always been ugly."

"Well if I've been getting the ugly boyfriend treatment, I can only imagine what would have happened if I'd never taken that rocket to the face."

She punched his arm, "Stupid turian. I was trying to flirt."

"How'd that go for you?"

"Well enough." She leaned into his arm lips parted in an almost pout. Garrus hated when she did that, it reminded him of her oppressively seductive mouth, and right now, that was simply unfair. The hovercar was shielded, and he knew no one could see, but he was still wary of doing anything else. They'd taken a risk the other night, and, honestly, he would take it again in a heartbeat. But he knew he had to be careful. He had a duty to tell his family first. He had bridges to build there, and scandalous liaisons with a human wouldn't help that any. Duty. He was ruminating on that word a lot on Palaven.

Jane settled against his armored shoulder. The ride back to the estate was short, but she planned on enjoying the privacy before the bustle that was Garrus's home. Jane liked Garrus's family. Even Solana who was still hurt, clearly and understandably, but she loved Garrus. And she would forgive him, but she'd make him suffer a little while longer. Despite her military training, Solana wasn't a fighter, and Jane wondered idly who was the worse turian between the two of them. She hoped Solana would come around, she thought they could get along and maybe even be friends. Heavens knew she had few enough of those. Atrus, on the other hand, she'd taken to him like a fish to water.

She remembered the look on Garrus's face when she and Atrus came to breakfast together. She thought he was going to have a heart attack. He clearly hadn't wanted her to meet his father alone either. But Atrus was a soldier, a cop, a man of action, and a man who'd been forced to make difficult choices. She understood him, and, she liked to think, he understood her too. It showed in his bearing. How he weighed people—slowly and evenly listening to every word, every pause, absorbing every minute detail. He reminded her of Garrus now, not the Garrus she'd met on the Citadel three years ago.

She turned her face up to look at him. He was running his fingers through her hair purring softly to himself. "So, the Primarch is having a dinner at the end of the week," he said as casually as he could. "And we're invited."

She raised her eyebrows. Garrus knew she regarded state functions as events to be tolerated and not enjoyed. Although he didn't relish the idea of spending the evening in the company of politicians any more than she did. "So, we'll go," she answered. "We can't very well turn down the Primarch."

"No, we can't." He waited.

She drifted into silence for a while longer mulling over the Commander Shepard on display for the turians. But Victus knew. Garrus had said the Primarch wasn't willing to say anything now…but with the rumors Solana had been raging about… "When you say 'we' what exactly do you mean?"

Garrus cleared his throat, "Officer Vakarian and guest."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: A big thank you to everyone as always who has been following, alerting, and reviewing my work. You all know how happy you make me! I try to respond to everyone's reviews because you all say some really great things!

As always, all of this belongs to Bioware, and I'm just playing around.


	10. Cerulean Blue

**Chapter 10: Cerulean Blue**

Garrus found his father at the edge of the estate. Ever since he'd been a child his father had come out here at sunrise saying he needed the moment of peace before the storm of the day. Garrus hadn't understood what he meant until recently.

He cleared his throat giving his father a chance to send him away.

"Garrus," Atrus didn't turn around.

"Dad," he shuffled his feet behind his father.

"You have something to tell me?"

"Yeah," Garrus paused. Now or never, he supposed. The words turned over in his head.

Atrus waited patiently for his son to speak. Garrus had to say it.

"It's about Commander Shepard."

Atrus turned to face his son.

"We're…she's…special…to me." There. He'd said it, not as eloquently as he'd hoped, but it was out.

Atrus's face betrayed no emotion, "How long?"

"What?"

"How long have you and Jane?" Garrus was surprised Atrus would call Shepard by her first name.

"Since the Collectors. But then she was incarcerated, back on earth…and I came here. And I didn't know. So it seemed pointless to say anything about something that only might have been." Garrus was rambling.

"So a year." Atrus cut his son short.

"More or less." It sounded bad, even to Garrus. But he hadn't wanted to make a vidcall out of it, and he'd wanted to make sure it was something. He wanted to make sure Jane hadn't somehow changed her mind, found something, or someone, closer to home.

"How long did you know?" that question surprised Garrus.

"Know what?"

"Don't be stupid. When did you know?"

"Omega." And he's back in that god-forsaken building holding that damned bridge.

_He blinks. Eyelids heavy._

_ He shakes his head hoisting the scope back to his eye._

_ The rifle is heavier than he remembers. Muscle fatigue. He knows he won't last much longer_.

_He lines up the shot, pulls the trigger, feels the recoil. One more down. "Scoped and dropped," he mutters to himself._

_ Remembering Makos and Cerberus and the geth._

_ He finds his next target. White jumpsuit. Freelancer, he thinks._

_ Finger resting on the trigger he catches sight of black and red armor. Pause. He looks up from the scope._

_ No. The familiar gait. The way the gun sits half-cocked in her hands. The blue glow of waiting biotics._

_ Dead. She's been dead two goddamn years._

_ His eye is drawn back to the scope. N7. The hair is longer. The face more gaunt. But it's her. Undeniably her._

_ His heart stops. He can't breathe. Can't see. The wound he's worked so hard to cover rips open. Gaping. Endless. She takes out one merc, then another._

_ The rifle trembles in his hands. He fires on concussive round. He's angry, he's relieved, he's happy. Then he fires another. _

_ She staggers. Shock. She's not hurt._

_ He's watching the mercs now. Ready to take out any of them if they so much as look at her._

_ Then she's up the steps. In the room. "Archangel?" Her voice is sure and commanding. Just as he remembers it._

_ He can't speak for a moment. Slides off his helmet instead. Waits, finds his voice, "Shepard."_

_ Recognition floods her face, "Garrus," the relief is palpable. He reaches out to her, and she's in his arms. It's the first time he's ever really felt her. Pliable skin, soft hair. It is good._

_ And then it's like they were never apart. He's sniping, she's charging, ordering the squad, ordering him. White jumpsuit is with her, he's glad he didn't shoot her._

_ The building shudders. The basement. He knew they'd find it eventually._

_ She leaves one of her men with him. He wants to tell her "no," tell her she's more important. But the words never come. She's gone. And he was too glad, too relieved to say anything._

_Shepard. And Vakarian._

"You waited a long time Garrus," Atrus turned away from the bluff, and Garrus wasn't sure if he referred to their relationship or the interminable time he was lost back on Omega.

"Yeah, I know." Garrus answered because to either question, it was.

"So, a human?"

"Yeah, I didn't see it coming."

"That's not true."

Garrus paused. If he was honest, this was going much better than he thought it would. He shrugged in response to his father, "You're right. But I didn't see it then."

"No," Atrus chuckled, "I suppose you didn't."

Garrus laughed too. It was short and nervous, "She asked me."

"I am not surprised."

They fell quiet, laughter slowly subsiding; the estate was silent as they walked. It was slow and deliberate. Garrus hadn't spent this much time with his father in years. "You knew this was coming," Garrus finally said.

"I thought it might. She suits you."

Garrus lifted a face plate.

"You're similar, and well matched. You understand her," Atrus continued.

"You're not mad." Garrus said tentatively.

"Three years ago I would have been angry, but now? No. Garrus, you're happy. I can see it, and she's not like the other humans. The other spectres."

"She certainly is not." Garrus agreed.

"And losing your mother has given me a little perspective," Atrus was quiet.

"Dad, I, I'm sorry," He opened his mouth to say more. His father hadn't said anything about his mother's funeral, or his conspicuous absence, since he arrived. And Garrus felt guilty about it. He realized he'd been avoiding his father.

"No, I understand, especially now. Sol doesn't. She took Lucia's death hard. Harder than I expected," Atrus trailed off pain forming at the edges of his words. "But I remember so much about her life. I remember when she had you. Cradled you in the crook of her arm. Spirits, I don't think I've ever loved anything so much. You were so small, and you were ours.

"I know you went to her. Sol did too. All your lives when something was wrong you found your mother. And now, I'm the one who is left. Me. When did that happen? When did I get left behind?"

"I didn't think I'd outlive her either," Garrus said knowing it was an empty phrase.

"Of course you didn't. But you weren't here. You were saving the galaxy, facing insurmountable odds. You didn't wake up to her for 37 years, 8 months, and 5 days. She was always there. At my best, at my worst. She was my constant. And now I'm alone."

Garrus was silent. He knew the feeling: the overwhelming emptiness, the physical pain. He'd gladly face the Reaper fleet, barehanded, than go through that again.

"There was this one time, back when we were young, younger than you. We were taking out a squad of batarian and vorrcha slavers. I'd just met your mother. She was stubborn, and she went charging in. I was up above sniping, and when I saw her move, when she was down there, I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. That's when I knew. And _much_ later, she accepted me. Faults and all."

Garrus smiled, chest tight, "They do that, don't they?"

"Spirits, do they."

"They make us better," Garrus fell silent. He hesitated, "After Omega, I found this turian on the Citadel. He killed my squad, betrayed me, and left ten families broken. I tracked him down. Called in a lot of favors. Jane went with me, she said she would, didn't ask questions, said it was my call. We found him. I was ready to take the shot, but she stood in the way. She wouldn't let me. I begged. Argued. Cursed. I hated her. But she was immovable. I couldn't take the shot, finally told him to go. She knew when I didn't. She knows me, every inch and every shadow."

Atrus smiled, "I never thought you'd end up with a human. But I'm glad it's her."

They were at Lucia's grave. Garrus didn't know how they'd gotten there. He frowned, swallowing a lump in his throat. Mom.

"I miss her. There's an ache I can't fill, can't hide from, can't beat. It hurts worse than any wound. Garrus, I think I might break, and sometimes I don't know how to stand. I think I might crumble from the inside out."

"I know. It's how I knew." Garrus recalls the crushing feeling, the endless hole. Gaping. He remembers.

Atrus looked at Garrus, nodded, "We need to figure out how to tell Sol."

* * *

><p>Jane squinted as they reemerged into the light of Palaven's sun. They'd spent all afternoon combing through the dockmaster's chaotic records. After seeing the state of office, Jane wasn't surprised Cirrus and Evander had come back empty handed the other day. Some of the shipping manifests had been missing, and others were incomplete. Garrus downloaded the ones they needed, so they could compare them later with the numbers from Victus. She hoped the numbers would point to something, anything to get them out of this dead end. Garrus was banking on her theory that most of the supplies never touched down on Palaven.<p>

He'd been such a cop back there, ordering people around and not taking "no" for an answer. She grinned hastening to walk next to him, "So, you talked to Atrus this morning?"

"I did." He glanced down at her. She'd gone without the enviro-suit today arguing they would be digging through shipping records all day and not walking the beat. The crush of bodies on the docks jostled them together for a moment, and Garrus took the opportunity to grab her very firm ass. She smiled up at him pressing back against him, and then the bodies parted and so did they.

"Well, what did he say?"

"He knew." Her eyebrows shot up. "He wasn't surprised, anyway. He knew something was going on, and I think he suspected it was serious. But he's all right with it. Shepard, I didn't think he would be, but, he misses Mom." Garrus stopped speaking, and Jane waited.

"I'm glad you told him."

"Me too. It felt good."

"So, you're sure you don't want something less soft?" she teased.

"No, Jane Shepard, I want you."

There was little Jane Shepard wanted at that moment more than to be alone with him. Her body ached to be next to him, and standing this close, it felt like she was being electrocuted. She kept reaching out to touch him before she realized it. She hated having to pull back. Although, Jane considered, if Garrus told Sol what was going on the two of them just might get to be together tonight. Unconsciously, she hurried her step to get back to the car. "Jane," she paused at the sound of his voice, "When did you and my Dad get on a first name basis?"

"It's a mystery, Garrus Vakarian. It's a mystery."

She stared at the ships as they passed them; she hadn't gone this long without seeing a ship in a while. Some of them were old, but most of them were new, paint still gleaming, no miniscule dents from stray space debris, no marks from atmospheric burn. She missed the Normandy: the quiet hum of the engines, and the glow of the fish tank, even the constant presence of EDI. Almost all of the docked ships were passenger shuttles, Jane wondered idly where the military vessels were, then decided they wouldn't be docked in a civilian transport hub.

"Mallik!" She heard the shout. _Mallik_. She knew the name, it was important, the missing batarian!

"Garrus!" but he'd already made the connection. He was scanning the crowd for the batarian moving in the direction of the sound.

She followed close at his heels. What would the missing batarian be doing here, was he still looking for a ship off world? Where would he go? Why wouldn't he have gone back to the prefab shelter where there was protection.

He noticed the batarian before she did. Damn, he was good at picking people out of a crowd, she thought.

He made his way to him. "Mallik," his voice was a low growl as he grabbed his elbow. Garrus forced the two of them against the push of people and down a small alley. He hauled the batarian roughly against the side of the wall.

"Garrus," Jane put a hand on his arm. They didn't even know why the kid was here or what might have happened to him. He looked at her his grip slowly releasing.

"Are you Mallik?" Jane asked.

"Yeah, what do you want? My friends saw you take me down here," the now suspicious batarian stared back at them daring them to do anything. "Are you cops?"

"Spectre. You were reported missing," Jane continued, "so we're surprised to see you."

"Who reported me?"

"The friends you were with before: another batarian, a drell. They thought maybe you'd found a ride off world."

"Well, I haven't. But I'm staying at a new place now," Mallik brushed Garrus's hand away and turned to leave.

"Care to tell us who you're staying with so we don't run into this predicament again?" Garrus's voice did not allow for disagreement.

"Devak," the batarian answered, "he's easy to find." And then the kid was gone.

"Well, that's one name we can cross off the list," Jane said once the batarian had disappeared.

Garrus stared down the alley the way the batarian had gone. "Yeah, one less for us, but I'm not sure I like it."

"Me either, but it'll be easy enough to find him if we need to."

"Devak, right?"

Jane nodded. She reached for his hand; the alley was empty enough that she was willing to risk it and he didn't pull away. She felt a tingle rise up her spine, this forced distance was making her feel like a kid again. "I had some idea of what might happen when we get back to the estate."

"Does it include scouring hundreds of shipping manifests?"

"Happily, Officer Vakarian, it does not."

* * *

><p>"Sol," Garrus found her in the library surrounded by charts and datapads. Jane's plans for the evening, fun though they certainly were, had also included him having a talk with Sol. She'd moved her work into the library after he and Jane had commandeered the office.<p>

She looked up. Her face was drawn and she looked tired. "Garrus," a smile crept onto her face. "What's going on?"

He looked at the messy desk, "Busy?"

"Yeah. This committee work isn't getting done. I've spent the last week in the same meeting. We're dangerously low on supplies. It should be a fixable problem."

"I saw the slums." Garrus didn't relish the memory.

She noticed the look on his face, "Cenna had the same response."

"Cenna, huh?" Garrus remembered him from when they were just kids. He was Sol's age; they'd been inseparable for a while. It wouldn't be a bad match for her.

"One of us needs to settle down," she looked pointedly at him.

"So, it's serious?"

"Serious enough. For now, anyways." Sol had no idea how serious Cenna was taking their regular liaisons. He'd hinted at something more the last time they'd been together, but she hadn't heard from him since. But she wasn't going to let Garrus know that.

"That's good. I'm happy for you Sol." They fell silent, and Garrus felt the gap that had grown between them while he was away.

"What do you need Garrus? I'm pretty busy, and I'd like to sleep tonight."

"I wanted to talk to you about Jane," he started.

"If it's how I behaved when you two landed, I didn't mean it. It's just been a long time since you've been home, and I was upset about Mom. I can talk to her if you'd like."

"No, Sol. Well, thanks, but you don't need to talk to her about that. She understands."

"Oh. Is she upset because I mentioned the gossip? I just thought the both of you would want to know, and honestly, I'm tired to dealing with them. Even Cenna's been asking."

"About that."

"Garrus, just go out with a turian. Irris will go with you, I'm sure. Show up in public somewhere without a human, and the rumors will go away. It's really quite easy." She turned back to her notes. She's quite the politican, Garrus observed.

"I'm sure it would be. It's just not that simple." Spirits, this was worse than telling his father.

Sol paused looking up at him slowly, "What do you mean it's not that simple? Are you telling me that what everyone's saying is _true_?"

"I'm not sure exactly what they're saying, but most of it probably is." He tried to shrug.

"Most of it? How much is most of it? Are you? Have you?" Sol stood hands pressing down into the desk.

"When we hit the Collector base, we—"

"A whole fucking year?"

"Well, she was incarcerated, and I was here, so there was that."

"Don't, Garrus Vakarian. Don't. Even. Start. You were screwing a human for a goddamn year, and you tell me now. You do not get technicalities."

That, Garrus supposed, was true. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"Yeah, me too. Spirits, do you know I've been going around for the past week insisting nothing's been going on between the two of you?"

"Sol, look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep it from you, but I knew how upset you were after Mom died. How upset you were with me for not coming home. And I wanted to give you some space."

"So you lied. You lied to me, and you lied to Dad. Have you told him yet?"

"This morning."

Sol looked at him waiting for more.

"He was fine. He seemed to know, or at least, he had a hunch something was going on. Don't look at me like that, I didn't think he would be all right with it either."

She went quiet studying his face. She let out the breath she'd been holding. "So, it's serious?" her face softened imperceptibly.

"Yeah, it is."

"A human?"

"They dig scars. I always thought it was only the krogan."

"Does she love you?"

"Yes, Sol. She does."

Sol closed her eyes releasing her grip on the te, "I just wish you had told me sooner."

"Me too." He watched her for another minute.

"So, you didn't have any reactions…when…"

"Sol!"

She smiled, "I just always thought that was part of the allure."

Garrus laughed. "You have heard about the things she's done right? Suicide sex is just a bonus."

"I wasn't referring to her."

"Sol, I'm not going to find anything closer home, if that's what you're implying."

She nodded. "I know, I think."

Garrus nodded. She was still speaking to him. She'd almost made a joke. It was a start, and he'd take it. "So, what exactly are you hoping to propose to the Primarch tomorrow?"

* * *

><p>Jane scrubbed her skin, hoping to wash away the dirt and grime from earlier in the day. The water scalded her skin, turning it bright pink. She breathed in the steam it was oddly comforting. She scrubbed herself again. She knew she was procrastinating.<p>

She toweled herself off, skin still toasted from the shower. Water ran in rivulets down her back. She shivered and stared at the dress on her bed. She hated dresses. They were too exposed, too unprotected. She let out a long, slow breath.

_Barefeet. Fire. Gunshots. Blue dress flying. Tears streak her cheeks. _

_Tristan's been shot. She sees the smoke rising from his chest. She screams. _

_No sound comes out. She knows this because no one finds her._

_She cowers. Counts to 1000 like she's been taught._

_The screams are fading. She crawls out from behind the crates. Slowly._

_She's alone._

_Home isn't far. She picks up a stray pistol. Holds it close. Finger resting on the trigger. She doesn't know better. Yet._

_She moves slowly, pausing at every sound. She's certain there will be slavers waiting around every corner._

_Blood drips to the ground. She's cut. She's not sure when it happened. It doesn't hurt._

_The door is open, and she can see blood on the walls. Heart sinking, she crosses the threshold raising the pistol._

_Her father. She's almost sure. He doesn't have a face, but she doesn't look long. Can't look. He's been shot. It's his blood on the walls._

_Knees hit the floor. Hard. _

_She can't see. The tears fall too quickly._

_Her hands are red. She knows, vaguely, it's not hers. None of this is hers. Not her life. Not her family. Not anymore._

_She can't stay here. She knows this suddenly. She crawls to where the safe is. The gun. She thinks two might be better. But she doesn't know. She feels safer with the grip in her hand._

_Her eyes search. Mother. Ellara. Gone._

_She makes the decision. She has to go. She has to find them._

_Faintly, she hears the transports. They're still here._

_She can get them._

_She pauses at her father again. At the body that was her father. "I'm sorry," she whispers. The words choke her. She can't breathe. Can't move. She collapses._

_She pulls herself up. She doesn't know how long she's been on the floor. _Ellara_. The spaceport._

_She holds her breath. Steps over the body. She looks back once. Gasps. Stumbles. _

_The shot just misses her._

_She raises the gun. Uncertain. Fires blindly. Recoil sends the gun high. _

_The second shot hits her leg. She cries out. Falls. Tries to rise. Can't._

_She fumbles with the gun. This time she hits the batarian. Not a kill shot. Just a graze. He moves closer still shooting._

_He hits her again. Shoulder._

_She almost drops the gun. Somehow she holds on._

_She steadies herself._

_Shoots._

_The batarian falls unmoving. Her first kill._

_She groans in pain. Rolls on her side. She can't move her left arm. Her right leg won't support her._

_She crawls. Blood trailing the ground behind her._

_She leans against a crate. Ellara. Just a little farther. But she knows they're dead or gone. Beyond her._

_She closes her eyes. Just for a moment she tells herself._

_When she wakes there's a turian standing over her. Gun is still clenched in her hand. Blood soaked through her dress. She can barely move. Can't stand._

_He reaches for her. She shirks back. Winces. Can't._

_He scoops her up. She fights. She's too weak and falls into his arms._

_The world goes black._

And that, she thought, pulling herself from the memory, is the last time she enjoyed wearing a dress. Until tonight.

Garrus inhaled sharply. The grey silk dress clung softly to her form, easing over her hips, sliding over her chest. Blue streaks cut diagonally along her athletic form. "Shepard," he murmured.

"You like it?"

"Shepard, I—" She turned slowly. She was stunning, the dress was backless, dipping dangerously low. Combined with the plunging neckline, Garrus wasn't sure how he'd ever resisted flesh. "Shepard, you know…" They were his colors: grey and cerulean blue. "Shepard, you do know?"

Females, in turian society, typically took their mates' markings. Garrus had gathered it was similar to taking last names in human culture, or further back in human history family crests. Males could, of course, take the females' markings, and some did, especially when the female was from a superior house. Garrus would never have asked Shepard to paint her face, even the thought made him grimace.

"You're not the only ones to watch vids, Garrus."

"I think we're watching different ones."

Jane laughed slipping under his arm. "Garrus, I know what I'm saying. Are you all right with this?"

He pressed his forehead against hers, "If I had my way you'd only wear grey and blue." He wrapped her in his arms, the silk spilled through his hands. He breathed her in, the familiar scent complemented with something else, something softer. He hummed against her, and she closed her eyes enjoying the moment. He felt pride slowly swell in his chest. Shepard was in his colors.

"Nice dress, Shepard," it was Sol. They pulled away from each other at the sound of her voice, the moment evaporating. Sol eyed the dress amusement flickering across her face. Things between Sol and the two of them had been cordial, if not friendly. She hadn't exactly embraced their relationship, but Jane thought she might come around. As far as Jane could see Sol just wanted her brother back. Garrus, however, was at a loss.

"When is Cenna coming by?" he asked harsher than he intended.

"Soon." Sol answered disappearing back the way she came.

Garrus looked at Jane apologetically. "She just needs some time," she said.

He pulled her close again nestling her head against his shoulder. He rested his hand in Jane's, her thumb rubbing slow circles on his palm. His mandibles fluttered. He'd missed this, the simple comfort of her presence, of her touch. He felt the knot in his stomach slowly unravel. He kissed the top of Jane's head looking at her dress again. Spirits, he'd never expected this.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** First, I know this is a really quick update, but I really, really wanted to get this out because of reason number 2.

Second, I have my very own Beta reader! I am doing a happy dance. This is like Christmas when you are five. Since she's joining the party a little later, she's doing to start in chapter one and work her way up. This means, I will be revising chapters (and still writing new ones) to make them more readable! It also means I'll be posting once a week. But I have a Beta (I am still happy dancing) This is huge! I am so stoked. You should all send some love See Kee Saw's way because we will now have a more cohesive, stream-lined narrative. :)

Third, I wanted to have the party this chapter...but I had a lot of other things to write first. I think you all will understand.

Fourth, Bioware owns Mass Effect. I'm just playing in their sandbox.

Fifth, thank you to everyone who has been reading, reviewing, alerting, favoriting, etc. You are all amazing. Seriously, amazing. I do try to respond to every review, sometimes it takes me a little while. Also, to the wonderful people at : I 3 you.

Wow, thanks for reading this really long note!


	11. The Rules of Decorum

**Chapter 11: The Rules of Decorum**

Adrien Victus listened to the conversation buzz around him. Politicians talking politics. Victus was not a man used to diplomacy, and politicians made him distinctly uncomfortable. He'd invited Septimus in an attempt to stem some of the political discussion, but, so far, it hadn't worked. He hoped Garrus would steer the conversation in a different direction, if he ever arrived. Garrus, now there was a turian who had some stories: Archangel, the Collectors, the Reapers, even Saren, not to mention his old C-Sec days, although those had to pale in comparison with what he'd seen with Shepard. He was also interested in who Garrus would bring, if he'd any sense he wouldn't bring Shepard, he would bring a very nice, charming turian girl. From what Victus had heard, Garrus didn't have any sense; in which case, this dinner would become very interesting indeed.

Solana and Avicenna had already arrived, and Victus had half-expected expected her brother with them. Cenna was leaning easily against a wall captivating a handful of other guests—he had a calm arrogance about him that Victus didn't like. It was effective though, Victus watched as Solana attempted to engage Cenna and failed. Cenna certainly wouldn't be an easy mark, but Victus applauded the young Senator for her persistence.

His eye was drawn to movement in the hall. Garrus, finally, he thought relief beginning to flood him. She entered, tall and beautiful. Long dress pooling lazily on the floor, streaks of blue accentuating every curve. Victus had to look twice to make sure it was, in fact, Jane Shepard. She looked so different out of her armor and fatigues. Suddenly, Garrus's choice of date didn't seem nearly as outrageous.

"Commander Shepard," Victus rose to greet her. "Garrus, welcome."

"Primarch Victus, we're delighted to be here," Garrus answered. Jane smiled clasping his hand, "Primarch."

Jane's eyes roved the room. She knew she would be the only human, and that didn't bother her, hell, Garrus had been the only turian on her ship for years. This was no problem. "General Oraka," she said feeling the relief swell inside of her just the same.

"Commander Shepard. It's always nice to see you. Please, call me Septimus," Oraka rose to greet her.

"Can I get you two anything to drink?" Victus asked motioning for one of his servants, "Commander, I don't carry much in the way of levo-alcohol, I'm sorry. I do have an asari honey wine, I've been told it's very good."

"That sounds perfect." She replied. Garrus introduced her to the rest of the turians. She knew Sol and Septimus, but that was all. Cenna surprised her; she'd expected Sol to look for something different. But, Sol also expected Garrus to find something different, so Jane considered it even. Garrus greeted Cenna warmly, like old friends, and Jane thought maybe she was missing something about the young turian. It seemed the three of them had been childhood friends, and she was willing, for the moment, to let the feeling of unease pass. The rest of the Primarch's guests were politicians, some of them she recognized from conversations with Sol: Kallen and Irris. But the rest bled together in the wash of information.

The turian hierarchy was far more complex than she had at first imagined, Garrus had told her parts of it, and she'd researched others, but she realized, listening to the steady hum of the conversation, that she'd barely scratched the surface. Sol and Cenna were clearly at the bottom of the social hierarchy in the room, and then came Irris and Kallen, but Garrus was much higher near the Primarch. She watched the deference pass between them all in curt nods and short phrases wondering idly about political fallout from tonight.

After the brief pleasantries were exchanged, including several concerns for her health with the threat of radiation, the groups slowly drifted back to themselves. The stymied conversation slowly restarted, and Jane found herself listening far more than speaking, soaking up every moment of this refined and strangely controlled evening.

Cenna watched Shepard and Garrus from across the room noting their entrance and appearance with unfeigned interest, "Nothing, huh?" he turned to look at Sol.

"Shut up, Cenna," Sol replied.

"I told you 3 years was a long time."

"Yeah, I thought he'd be different, but, not like this."

"She is beautiful. I can see the attraction."

"She's what?"

"Sol, she's stunning. You can't have not noticed." Cenna ran his eyes over the human mesmerized by the gentle sway of her hips and the plunging neckline. He normally didn't find scars attractive, but he thought he might be willing to make an exception in this case.

Grudgingly, Sol regarded the human. Cenna was right—the tall, lean muscular form, and the bright intelligence behind her eyes set her apart from any human she'd known before. She'd desperately wanted Commander Shepard to be one of her brother's infatuations, but she knew, now, that she most certainly wasn't.

"She's wearing his colors, you know," Cenna observed.

"I saw that earlier."

"So, they're serious?"

"I suppose they are."

"I'm not surprised. Your brother never really knew when to leave things on shore leave."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Sol's voice went cold.

"You know his reputation. Don't—I know you know it."

"Commander Shepard is not some stray pyjack nor is she a turian fling. It's not like he brought home an asari dancer, so don't make it sound like he did."

"Sol, you know it's odd. If it wasn't your brother, you'd be gossiping about it too." Cenna replied cocking his head slightly.

"But it is my brother, Cenna. This is my family."

"If you'll please follow me, dinner is ready." Victus's announcement interrupted their brief conversation.

Cenna paused for a moment. Sol looked almost as beautiful as the Commander this evening, and he didn't want to upset her. He hadn't meant to be so harsh, "I'm know. I'm sorry. Shall we?" he continued standing. Solana rose with him, the burgundy skirt pooling at her feet. "You look stunning too." He said, and she smiled.

In the wake of the Primarch's declaration, Jane watched the turians rise and follow the Primarch into a cavernous room in a procession so fluid it almost looked rehearsed. Garrus took her arm escorting her to dinner. It was all so formal, but she found herself enjoying every moment of it. One long table ran the length, and the room was elegantly lit with soft yellow lights. It seemed so familiar that for half a heartbeat Jane thought she was back on Earth in one of the many stately castles and dignitary estates. Grandeur and refinement, it seemed, were another one of those universally translatable concepts. Sometimes she thought she was finding more of them everyday.

Dinner began peacefully enough Victus was pleased to note. Despite the small disturbance Shepard's presence originally made, he found she was attracting less attention now. Her life in the military suited her for conversing with the turians, and she understood the life of strict discipline that they subjected themselves to. Garrus may not have chosen a turian, but he could have chosen far worse, Victus finally decided. He'd seated the pair of them near the head of the table, where Garrus's standing warranted and where Shepard's presence wouldn't offend. Spirits, he hated politics, he thought for the second time that evening.

Jane watched the turians around her, and she looked down at her unexpectedly foreign place setting. She hadn't forgotten she was the alien here, but she was still startled to remember turians didn't use the same cutlery as humans. She watched the other turians with interest mimicking their motions as the food was slowly brought out. Victus had seen to it she was served, even if he hadn't counted on a different set of cutlery. Garrus looked over at her, smiling slightly. "Here," he said showing her what to do.

"Thanks," she mouthed back to him.

Victus observed their brief exchange. Garrus's soft voice and gentle instructions and her gracious acceptance had been so restrained and tender he almost forgot he wasn't seeing two turians. He'd always known humans to be impetuous and rash, their scantily clad bodies demanding attention, and their insistent mouths forcing affection. The flesh had never appeal to him, and he didn't think it appealed to Garrus, but, watching them, Victus knew it was more than that.

"I'm just saying," Jane heard Sol's voice cut across the room, "rations would solve most of the problems facing the incoming refugees." Sol was engaged in a heated discussion with a turian whose name Jane couldn't remember. Garrus had been pulled into a conversation with General Oraka who was sitting to his left, and that left Jane unattended. She didn't mind, she was actually enjoying watching the turians interact, and she had little to say about their politics. They were so similar and so very different from humans.

"She cured the genophage," she heard from a group of turians she hadn't met. They were closer to Atrus's age, and she saw them regard her with caution from the other end of the table. She wasn't surprised by their slightly hostile curiousity. Curing the genophage had been a difficult decision, or it would have been if Wrex and Eve weren't leading the korgan, but she understood the turians' skepticism. The genophage had been explained as necessary for hundreds of years, especially to the salarians and the turians, and now a galaxy without the genophage was a big change. Even with the Primarch's reassurances and belief in a turian/krogan alliance, Jane knew there would be some unwilling to believe such a thing was possible. She knew humans who were still wary of aliens after the First Contact War. She felt a pang, then, for Ashley, who despite her own prejudice had died for a team of salarians because Shepard had gone back for Alenko. Kaidan. The name was still thick in her mouth. She'd thought they were past everything on Horizon, he'd come on her ship after Udina's failed coup, but she hadn't seen him since the battle. They'd said their good-byes, but she still half expected him to be there when she woke up, and, despite her best judgment, when he hadn't been there it had hurt. She hated the way it had gone down between them, and she knew it couldn't have been easy to be on the same ship as she and Garrus, but he hadn't spoken of it since the hospital. And neither had she.

"And she gave the geth Reaper code," she heard another of the turians respond pulling her from her regrets.

"It almost killed the quarians."

Jane forced her attention at the plate in front of her. She could hear the steadily growing group of turians just fine without watching them. She was interested in what they were saying. She knew not everyone was pleased with her decisions, some of them she didn't like herself, but rarely had she heard people voice their objections so openly. Al-Jasani was an outlier, she decided after a moment of consideration. So were the batarians, anyone would be upset if their system was destroyed. Even the salarians had eventually come around.

She followed the haze of the conversation slowly tuning out the group that had been focusing on her. She'd be happy to answer their questions, or attempt to allay their concerns, but she doubted that would be welcome or necessary. "Shepard." She turned instinctively when she heard Garrus call her name. "I was just talking about Grunt's Rite of Passage." He reached for her hand under the table giving it a soft squeeze looking apologetic. She wondered if he'd been eavesdropping too.

"And the thresher maw?" she continued knowing it was one of his favorite stories.

"I was about to tell how I took the kill shot."

"There wasn't much of it left by the time you finally got off a good shot."

"It was the shot that mattered."

"We didn't have to kill it, you know."

"Where's the fun in that? Besides Grunt and Wrex would have been disappointed."

She smiled looking at Septimus and a handful of other turians she didn't know. "It wasn't a very big thresher." She explained, "We'd taken on bigger in the Mako, but we were on foot, and we had to last five minutes. We were supposed to survive, like the krogan with the genophage."

"She was bored." Garrus drawled slowly.

"If I had known Uvenk would show up, I might've waited," she shrugged acknowledging that it was a lie to Garrus.

He continued, "This Thresher appears at the end of the Rite. We've spent most our ammo on varrens and klixons, and things were starting to go a little sideways. Mordin finished up this new gun, the Cain, just before the mission and gave it to Shepard."

"And I thought we would try it out." She shrugged, "Garrus was on my six with his rifle. Grunt was trying to shoot it with his shotgun—krogan bloodlust. So, I charged the Cain, only to figure out it's a one shot gun. I thought it might take the maw out, but"

Garrus cut in, "The maw was rearing back its head. It tended to spit something nasty that wiped out shields. So, I took the shot. It was hasty, but it worked. The maw went down, and Shepard lived." Jane wasn't sure if Garrus had ever looked more pleased with himself.

"You said Uvenk showed up?" Oraka asked.

"Tuchanka politics. Not everyone was pleased a tank-bred krogan was given the rite," Jane answered.

"I suppose it didn't help his krantt was a human and a turian either," Garrus looked at her.

She grinned, "Probably not. And that was after we decimated Clan Weyrloc."

'You'd think they'd have learned," Garrus answered shaking his head.

"Wrex was pleased. We'd taken care of two of the most outspoken clans within a week, leaving him free to work on uniting the krogan." Jane turned back to the rest of the table, most of whom were listening with interest.

"Are you sure uniting the krogan is a good idea?" Oraka pressed his mouth forming a thin line.

"It's better than leaving them to fight each other. Wrex is a strong leader, and with the help of Eve the females will work with him," Garrus replied.

"Wrex has always had strong feelings about the krogan and what they need," Shepard continued. "Even when I first met him, taking out Fist, and then later with Saren."

"Well, if another krogan rebellion breaks out we'll know who to call," Terren muttered eliciting a round of laughter from most of the turians. Jane pursed her lips glad Wrex wasn't present.

"I think, Commander Shepard has spent more time with the krogan than any of us present, and I, for one, trust her judgment." Victus stood cutting the laughter short and raising his glass. "I believe a toast is in order: to an unlikely alliance that saved the galaxy. Commander Shepard, you, and all your crew, have my, and Palaven's, deepest thanks." He bowed his head, sipping from his glass. The rest of the table murmured a quiet assent and followed their Primarch's lead.

Garrus watched Jane. She blushed, very beautifully, he thought. She didn't do well with praise, or thanks, it was one of the many things he'd picked up over the last few years. He smiled at her, gripping her hand a little tighter under the table. He leaned close, "I like unlikely alliances that save galaxies." She smiled in response her hand sliding up his thigh. He felt the smooth chill of desire along his spine; spirits, did he love her.

The conversation slowly drifted back to domestic matters confronting Palaven and the turian hierarchy. Sol sounded her declaration for rations and was again ignored. Terren lobbied for reducing immigration while Cenna countered with a proposal to improve the refugee camps and the living conditions near the docks.

"You have seen the conditions some of our people are living in," Cenna pointedly asked Terren.

"No, but I've seen the reports. Not everyone needs to trot down there to see first hand. I can imagine the depredation well enough myself." Terren refused to look at Cenna.

"Clearly you can't, otherwise you wouldn't ignore the reports." Cenna was toeing a dangerous line. He knew it, but he couldn't, or wouldn't, back down.

"I think, _Senator_, that I have seen enough of the turian condition to know what needs to be done."

"Then you surely must know about the gang." Cenna said simply and pointedly knowing that would change matters.

"What gang?" Garrus couldn't help himself from asking.

"There's a gang wrecking havoc down on the docks. The police are investigating, but no one seems to be saying anything or even reporting much for that matter," Cenna answered.

Garrus turned to Shepard, "We don't usually have gangs on Palaven, or on any of the turian worlds. We have our fair share of mercs, but no real gangs."

"Do you think?" Jane asked him raising an eyebrow.

Garrus shrugged, "Cenna, any word on who is running this gang? Or is that still unknown?"

"A drell named Devak, but we don't know more than that."

"How do you know so much Cenna?" Terren looked almost accusingly at the younger turian.

"I read the police reports that end up on my desk." Cenna responded offhandedly.

"Does this have any relevance to your investigation, Garrus?" Victus looked at Garrus, hating politicians for the third time.

"Hopefully. We ran into a batarian the other day that said he was working with Devak. It might not mean anything though." Garrus shrugged. He didn't want to confess to the Primarch that their investigation was at a standstill, and that he was doubtful it would ever become anything. Firstly, it would mean he would be integrated into Palaven's politics, and secondly, he didn't like to lose. And he felt like he was losing now.

"We'll look into it tomorrow," Jane said.

"What _are_ you looking into?" Irris demanded from the end of the table. "Why are you even here?"

"Commander Shepard and Officer Vakarian are looking into a personal matter for me," Victus answered in a tone signaling that was the end of the discussion.

The small party resumed eating in an awkward silence, and eventually small conversations began between those sitting next to each other. Victus had ordered dinner to be a small affair with only a few courses, he knew supplies were scarce, and he couldn't bring himself to be more lavish. Sometimes Victus felt as though he was herding pyjacks the way politicians were vying for favor. "Four," he muttered under his breath.

He watched his household staff clear away the plates, the colony markings slight derivatives of his own. These men and women had served his family for generations, as had hundreds of other turians in a hundred other houses. Their facial markings as unique to their place in his house as his own markings were from the other houses. Each marking specified a place in the household hierarchy and in society as a whole: his staff had a higher place in the hierarchy than the Vakarians' staff and so on throughout the colonies. So much rested on the colors and patterns of a few lines.

Jane followed the lead of several other guests and stood just after the Primarch. Dinner was clearly over, but, judging from the still flowing alcohol, the party was not. She and Garrus flitted the room talking with the guests. She didn't know many of them, but Garrus appeared to know most of them from childhood. He paused when they offered condolences about his mother, a look of pain flashing across his face, but he accepted gracefully before directing the conversation somewhere else. He was so different from when she'd first met him: the young C-Sec officer who only joined up because he knew spectres could break the rules, and he was itching to be free of the red tape. Those ideals hadn't lasted long, not too much longer than Dr. Saleon's research ship. She was proud of him, proud of who he'd become, and, even though he'd never admit to it, she was proud of the turian he was turning into.

He led her outside to the terrace. "Thought you could use a break," he said. The evening air was cool; it was a welcome change from the almost stifling atmosphere inside. She exhaled, long and slow, closing her eyes. The wind rustled over her billowing the dress in soft folds and tickling her exposed skin. She shivered once. Garrus instinctively moved to shield her from the wind, but stopped himself. This was the Primarch's estate, and they were not in private.

She looked over at him, an amused smile playing on her lips, "You thought I could use the break?"

"Yeah, I know, I need it."

She grabbed his hand, "I think it's going well."

"I should hope so now," he gave her hand a squeeze before letting it fall.

"It's absolutely beautiful here." She stared off towards the mountains watching the purple sky slowly slide to black. The thick carpet of the jungle blanketed the land closest to the estate and was slowly climbing up the steep mountains. In the other direction the lights from Cipritine were slowly illuminating the horizon. She leaned against the balcony into the breeze, and Garrus couldn't recall when he'd ever seen anyone look so absolutely free. He traced the silvery lines of scars with his eyes: he knew every ridge of them, every pockmarked crease. He could name most of them: the long one on her arm was from Therum, the one crossing her back was from Tuchanka, the one under her eye was from the Skyllian Blitz, and the one on her leg was from Earth. There were some he didn't know, the faded ones; they were both shallow and deep, and he hated not knowing where they were from or when. He bit back a growl as he remembered how she looked when he found her on Earth: leg askew, blood matting her hair, and the ragged breaths. It had been the second time he'd thought he lost her, but she was here now, with him. And spirits was she beautiful.

"Yeah, it is." He finally managed.

Jane looked over at him understanding, "Officer Vakarian, you should get me some more wine before you actually make a scene." She handed him her empty glass turning back to look at the vast expanse of Palaven once more. Garrus hesitated with her glass; he knew she was right that if he stayed he would just make a scene. But in that moment he would have given anything not to care. Jane took several moments in the silence to enjoy Palaven, before she started running through the op they would be executing tomorrow: Devak and the docks. They'd bring Evander, Icarion, Veyla and Cirrus since Jane still hadn't seen them in the field and they'd need the extra guns. And Garrus would insist on it, she knew already. They'd have to find the batarian from the other day, he'd seemed smug enough about Devak, so she didn't think they'd have any problems finding him. It was Garrus' op, not hers, she reminded herself. She trusted him to plan it well, hell, she trusted him to plan it better than she could. He knew the terrain, he knew the squad, and this was police, not military, work.

"I wanted to thank you," the voice behind her was calm drawing her from tactics. It was Victus. Jane hadn't heard him approach. "You've done a lot for Palaven, for the turians, and for me." He glanced inside at the group of turians watching them with unmasked interest. He turned away to look out over the balcony matching Shepard's pose.

"Primarch Victus, I was just doing my job," she answered.

"Apparently you were the only one doing the _right_ job."

"Presented with the evidence you would have responded just like I did. Fedorian listened when Atrus went to him with Garrus's story."

"Yes, but I didn't do anything, and neither did the rest of the galaxy." He paused frustrated, "What I'm trying to say is 'thank you.' You know how difficult that is for a turian, right?"

Jane laughed, "I'd gathered, but I seem to be hearing it a lot lately."

"You know this is uncommon, right?"

"Us or the gratitude?" she looked over at Garrus who was still inside and enthusiastically retelling a story. When Victus didn't answer she continued, "I know we're not common."

"Particularly in his position."

That was cryptic, Jane thought. "What is his position?"

"Garrus is close behind me in line. I imagine if they hadn't found me back on Menae, many would have looked to him instead. House Vakarian is very old and very powerful even if they aren't very wealthy. You have, of course, helped their reputation. It's impossible not to respect Garrus after the things he's done. But Garrus was supposed to make a good match here, on Palaven, to a younger, wealthier house. Sol is clearly doing what she can in that regard, but Garrus is a remarkably eligible bachelor."

"I see." And she did see, quite well. Garrus was jeopardizing not only the family line but also his family's standing on Palaven by dating her and eschewing the arms of another suitably eligible turian.

"You look stunning by the way," Victus said as they watched the last moments of the sunset.

"Thank you. I haven't been out of my uniform in ages."

"The color suits you," Victus said heading back inside to the rest of his guests, and leaving Jane to chew on their brief conversation. Her eyes followed the path Victus cut through the room. He clearly didn't disapprove, but he didn't approve either. She sighed wondering if Garrus knew about his family's situation and wondering if it would matter. She heard music from somewhere in the mansion, and a heartbeat later Garrus reappeared holding out a hand for her.

"I know it's not your favorite thing to do," he looked amused. Probably remembering the countless times on Omega or the Citadel or Ilium that she had been forced to dance, she thought.

"But it's expected," she finished for him. He nodded in response. She placed her hand in his, and he raised it to his mouth, tucking it into his elbow, and leading her inside.

Several couples were already dancing, Sol and Cenna amongst them. Jane noticed Irris and another turian she didn't know, as well as Terren and Victus and their respective mates. She looked ruefully up at Garrus. "Just follow me," he said, "I've been told I'm a good leader."

He wrapped her securely in his arms and joining the swirl of dancers on the floor. Jane felt irrationally off balance in her heels, but to her own amazement she didn't step on Garrus's, or anyone else's, toes. He was, true to his word, an excellent dancer. His step was solid and sure deftly navigating the other couples around the dance floor.

"I think," he purred into her ear, "that all this time, you've just been waiting for a strong lead. Someone to keep you in line."

"In your dreams, Vakarian," she answered leaning up and into him.

"Yes, they are," he responded without missing a beat, "and now, they have come true."

"You do not dream about dancing with me."

"Not this kind of dancing anyway," he said his blue eyes alight. The song ended a moment later, the couples halting in their place before reforming to continue.

"May I?" Cenna appeared at their side his hand outstretched towards Jane. She looked at Garrus, unsure of how exactly to respond. He gave her a soft nod, and she took the younger turians hand.

Cenna's grip was firmer than Garrus's, more possessive. Where Garrus lightly led her across the dance floor, Cenna pulled her clutching at her waist and her hand. She didn't stumble under Cenna's guidance any more than she had under Garrus's, but she understood the difference between them. She'd felt that difference from a hundred men over her life, she hadn't taken them all to her bed (or even many of them), but it was there all the same. Like night and day.

"You are an excellent dancer," Cenna finally spoke.

"Thank you." It was a pleasing lie, even if it was a poor one.

"Your dress is gorgeous," he continued.

"Thank you," she answered. This truth was less pleasant on his lips.

"Are you enjoying your stay on Palaven?"

"Very much. Although I haven't seen nearly as much of it as I would like."

"You have been in Cipritine? Yes?" he waited for her to nod before continuing, "And, I trust you have been to the mountains? I saw you admiring them earlier. No, well we should all go. Garrus, you, myself, and Sol. It would make a lovely excursion."

"I'm not sure we'll have the time."

"I'll arrange it with Sol." He pulled her closer against him.

"That would be best."

"I don't normally find humans so attractive, but you are stunning. Simply beautiful. I understand why Garrus was so keen on bringing you back." He ran one of his talons along the scar on her back edging dangerously low. It took every ounce of her willpower to keep from punching him.

Where in the seven hells was Garrus, she wondered not for the first time during this exchange.

"Garrus didn't bring me back," she answered coolly struggling to ignore the rest of his comment and the roving hand.

"Excuse me," this time it was Victus inserting himself between the pair. As much as Jane hated being passed around, nearly anything was better than dancing with Cenna. The Primarch's grip was firm but loose, similar almost to Garrus's, and he kept her respectfully at arm's length for which she was suddenly very thankful. "I hope you will excuse my interruption, but you looked ready to punch Cenna, and if you hadn't, I'm certain Garrus would have." The Primarch looked back towards the irate Garrus.

"I assume that's not how political dinner parties are supposed to end?"

Victus laughed, "No, they are not. At least not the ones with any claims to civilitiy."

"Well then, thank you, for maintaining the rules of decorum."

"That, it seems, is my job." They were blissfully quiet for the rest of the song. Jane focusing, once more, on staying off the Primarch's toes. Turian feet were not shaped like human feet, and she was having some difficulty adjusting to the difference. As the song ended and they drifted apart Victus pulled her close once again, "You are a credit to your race." And then she was happily caught in Garrus's arms once again.

"Garrus Vakarian, you—"

"Don't even say it. I'll never make you go to a party without your pistol again."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: First of all...everyone needs to go Jasminealexandra's deviantArt page and see the AMAZING art for this chapter. It is absolutely stunning. Seriously. Amazing. Go look.

A huge thank you to everyone who has been following this story, reviewing, favoriting, etc. I do make a point to respond to all my reviews (some of you don't have PMs enabled, and that makes me sad) because you all are what keep me going. Seriously, the support for this story has been amazing.

As always, Mass Effect belongs to Bioware, and I am just playing in their sandbox.

Also, keep an eye out, a revised chapter one will be hitting the internet sometime this week! :) And hopefully, the next installment of this story won't take me quite so long to write.


	12. A Better Turian

Chapter 12: A Better Turian

"What in the seven hells was that barefaced….what was he _thinking_?" Garrus roared at Solana once they were home.

He'd made sure to take her into the office after Jane had excused herself upstairs.

"You know how Cenna is." Sol looked at the floor. She knew there was little she could say; his display at the dinner had certainly been embarrassing

"He's lucky Jane kept her temper," Garrus snorted.

"He's lucky you kept your temper," Sol replied just as quickly. "Don't look surprised. We all saw it." She rolled her eyes slightly.

"We won't be seeing him again." Garrus said with surprising finality.

"Garrus, you know that's impossible."

He frowned. "We're not going on a picnic or whatever he suggested."

"Garrus, why don't you just go make sure Shepard's all right," Sol turned back to some work she had sitting on the desk. He knew as well as she did that it would be impossible for two such high ranking families to simply cease interacting, but she knew it wouldn't do any good to press the subject now. Cenna had been reprehensible, Sol knew his distaste of humans went deep, but she didn't think he'd attempt to humiliate one that was so famous.

Garrus paced the room for a few more moments before disappearing out the hall.

Sol sighed, Cenna was her best chance at continuing the family reputation, and she needed Garrus to accept that. She'd have to somehow convince Cenna that what he'd done somehow shamed his house rather than Shepard. She knew that it had, but convincing Cenna of that would be a different battle altogether.

Slowly, she sank behind the desk, her eyes closing, a long sigh escaping. If she had known just how human her behavior was, she would have been shocked.

Jane paced the room she and Garrus were now sharing. She'd shed her heels on the way home, and the floor was cold under her bare feet, and her feet hit the floor rhythmically, and she was trying to focus on that instead of the diplomatic incident she'd almost caused, and her breath was ragged like she'd been in a firefight, and she was exhausted, and her fist was still trembling as it had been since she'd forced herself not to take a swing at Cenna. _Get it together, Shepard_, she thought to herself. _The Reapers were no problem, but a sleazy turian?_ She shook her head, knowing it was more than just that: it was how utterly helpless she'd felt in his hands, how she hadn't know just what to do at a turian party, how she'd wished more than anything for a pistol, how she'd wanted to give him a clean left hook, how she'd never hesitated once in her life until this moment.

She stopped herself at that thought. She had hesitated once, and it had almost cost herself her life. She shuddered as she remembered the way the cool plastic and hard metal felt under her fingers the first time, the way the weight almost threw her off balance, the way the recoil threatened to dislodge the gun from her shaky grip. She'd hesitated once, and she'd almost died. She hadn't hesitated since then. Until tonight.

She ran her fingers through her hair, the style she'd spent hours on earlier this afternoon was beginning to disintegrate. She managed a half grin, funny how her hair always tended to mirror how she felt. Some things, she figured, were the same for all women. She blew a fragment of her bangs out of her eyes with a sigh as her mind returned to just how she was going to handle with this evening.

She hated politics. She wasn't any good at them, no matter how many times Udina or Anderson had insisted she go before the Council with some new piece of evidence, she'd always hated it. She was a soldier first, and a diplomat second. She rarely bullied people, but she thought in terms of tactics not cultures. Cenna's pride was as petty as his behavior, and the tactician in her couldn't wait to get him alone to let loose; but the diplomat, the woman she was supposed to be now, knew that wasn't a good idea.

Garrus entered a few minutes after she did. She'd barely begun to untangle the long strands of hair from the pins before she heard his quick and heavy feet on the stone floor. She could hear the anger in his footsteps; how they rang out, echoing down the hallways and across the estate. Jane spared a though for Sol and what she must be going through. It was never easy to have an ass for a boyfriend, Jane knew that all too well.

He'd cupped her face in his hands half a second after opening the door leaving it open in his haste in an uncharacteristic disregard for privacy. "I'm so sorry." He'd already apologized half a hundred times on the way home, but Jane knew it made him feel better to say something.

"Why didn't you hit him?" His fingers moved down her jaw bone to brush her chin.

She shrugged, "Didn't want to cause an incident."

"You, Jane Shepard, didn't want to cause an incident?" Garrus barked a throaty laugh.

"I'm not supposed to be just a soldier anymore, Garrus. I am Humanity on Palaven."

He looked at her for a long moment, "You may be a better turian than I am, Shepard."

She grinned, "Doesn't take much as far as I can tell."

He laughed again wrapping his long arms around her and pulling her into an awkward hug. "Humanity should be proud."

"I think they finally are." She stepped back. "Otherwise, I'd never have gotten this leave."

Jane slammed in the crate, the heat of the bullet skimming her shoulder. _Shit_. This was not going according to plan. Garrus was going to wring her neck.

She heard the low concussion of Garrus's viper rifle from somewhere above her. "Scoped and dropped," she muttered. He was saying something new now, but she always preferred that simple statement of the fact.

She checked her clip: six rounds until a reload.

She checked her pockets for the ammo coming up with one clip.

There were too many.

She heard shots from the right flank, Evander and Veyla were somewhere off her four slowly moving forward. There'd been a hallway off the main warehouse floor, and Garrus had sent them to clean it out. It didn't sound like they were having any difficulties.

Their intelligence told them it would be a quick operation: only a handful of guards and no tight security.

Their intelligence was bad.

She'd been pinned in this goddamn open space for too long. Six rounds. She heard Cirrus fire from the left flank followed by the unmistakable thud of a body.

One less.

She ran through her options. Her charge was almost useless in this confined space. She had no idea what was in the crates, and she wasn't willing to risk an explosion. Nova had the same problems. So did shockwave.

Six rounds, a clip, and pull. She'd been through worse.

She vaulted over the crate leveling her Eagle in the direction of the fire. She popped two shots before ducking back into cover. She readied pull, leaning left out of cover and loosing it on the nearest batarian.

She readied her pistol. One shot. But the batarian was already dead. She waved back at Garrus knowing he could see her in his scope. God, he was good.

"Icarian, Cirrus with me," she called out moving right around a pallet. She heard the turians behind her.

Garrus cursed when she moved out of his line of sight. Jane grimaced as it came over the comm. He couldn't cover everywhere from up there, and they needed to clean this building out.

She dropped another, this time it was a vorrcha. _What in the hell were vorrcha doing here?_ She winced when a shot from Cirrus's rifle cut past her taking down a drell.

This place was crawling with gang members.

"Shepard, on your six, back at the entrance," Garrus cut over the comm.

They were going to be trapped.

She nodded forgetting he couldn't see her. She signaled to Icarian and Cirrus to turn around backs to her. She checked her clip. Two shots. She reloaded; she didn't know what was waiting for her back at the entrance. She couldn't bank on time she didn't know she had.

Veyla and Evander were still pushing forward down the hallway. They'd have to come back through the main warehouse to get to the three of them. And Jane was decidedly all right with that.

She hoped Garrus was all right up on whatever walkway he'd found to snipe from. She _knew_ he would be. The odds were slim that anyone from Devak's gang would find him, but he was the only one alone. And that always made her worry.

She, Icarian, and Cirrus made their way back to the entrance. Goddamn, she hated this place. She hated going backwards.

There was only a small group of four back at the entrance, Shepard assumed they'd just returned from some petty theft. They were only lightly armed, but they were well trained bringing their weapons up as soon as Icarian fired the first shot.

Thankfully, the three of them had been able to dispatch the group quickly. The first thing to go right yet, she thought.

"They're down," she reported to Garrus.

They inched their way back towards the center of the warehouse.

"Shepard. Icarain. Where are you?" It was Veyla and Evander. They must have finally made it through.

"We had some unexpected guests," Cirrus answered giving the turian equivalent of a smile.

"Vakarian, the hall is clear, and so is this end of the warehouse. Still no sign of Devak," Evander said.

"There's a second floor. He must be there," Garrus growled.

Jane heard the soft clang of his talons against the metal of the walkway he'd been perched on as he made his way towards them. She listened as they got louder, suddenly stopping as he dropped down next to them knees bending to cushion the blow. His rifle was folded in it holster, the second floor offices wouldn't offer any good sniping locations.

"Everyone all right?" he asked glancing over the four turians and lingering on Jane.

They all nodded. Garrus took a moment to run his hand along a scorch on Jane's shoulder, mandibles clicking in disapproval.

"It's just the armor," she replied.

Looking away, he let his arm drop, "On me." They formed up single file with Garrus on point. Jane took the rear; she hated being that far back, but this wasn't her op. The four turians on their squad were well trained, and they left no corner of the warehouse unexplored.

They moved quickly up the stairs. The turians' movements were short and economical. They hugged the walls keeping their eyes trained straight ahead

She heard the _gak_ of the turret before she saw it, throwing herself against the wall. "I fucking hate turrets," she muttered. "Garrus? Overload."

"Already on it."

Half a second later the turret exploded in a pop of blue electricity.

"Two more," Garrus said.

"I got one," Veyla answered and another pop of blue electricity filled the air.

"I got the other," Cirrus threw out his overload as well.

The team was a bit tech dominant, but, Shepard had to admit, they were efficient. She hadn't seen a team cut through turrets like that even when she'd been working with the quarians.

"Good work," Garrus's voice cut over the residual snaps and sparks from the smoldering turrets.

The squad emerged from cover, still holding their single file formation. Shepard guessed the door at the end of the hall would be Devak's office, or at least where Devak had holed himself up. Garrus had the same idea, he signaled for them to pause and take up positions around the doorframe before punching it open.

The drell was waiting calmly at his desk. Jane remembered Fist, and the way he'd fought before giving up any information. The way they'd almost lost Tali because of it. Wrex shooting Fist after he'd surrendered.

Garrus trained his gun between the drell's eyes, "Devak?"

"The only."

Jane stepped forward between Garrus and Devak. She didn't think Garrus would shoot the drell, he'd come a long ways since his C-Sec days, even from his Omega days, but she hadn't seen that look on his in a long time.

"We've got a few questions for you," Jane said a hand automatically on Garrus's gun. She let her biotics hum, the blue light washing the office making the threat clear: Commander Jane Shepard was never unarmed.

"I'm sure you do." The drell was calm. She found it unnerving, especially because she had been so comfortable with Thane's stoicism.

"We're looking for some people," Jane continued.

"I'm sure _you_ are looking for _people_," the Devak replied.

"We're also looking for some supplies," Garrus interrupted.

"Well, you are in a warehouse."

"Stolen supplies," Veyla's voice cut in from the back of the room.

"You're welcome to look, but I guarantee none of these supplies have been stolen."

"We will," Garrus answered. He nodded at Icarian who produced a set of handcuffs.

"I hope you have a warrant," the drell looked at the young turian questioningly.

"Of course," Garrus's voice was so deep it was nearly inaudible.

"Well, then, begin your search." Devak rose form the desk. The six of them automatically tensed, fingers sitting easily on the triggers of their guns. The drell smiled slowly, "If you find anything I'll go with you willingly." He held his arms up above his head.

Icarian moved quickly to restrain the drell. Garrus began combing through the desk. "Veyla, Evander check upstairs for any datapads or shipping manifests. Icarian, Cirrus check downstairs. Leave the drell here. We'll keep an eye on him."

Jane watched the drell as the four turians' footsteps slowly faded as they hurried to find evidence. Jane doubted they would find anything, and a quick look at Garrus confirmed her suspicions.

Several hours later the six of them were back in their corner of the precinct huddled over several datapads and an itinerary of the warehouse. None of it matched the reports from Victus.

Jane sighed, cradling her head in her hands and kneading her thumbs into her temples. She'd been almost positive Devak had been behind the recent crime on Palaven, but there was nothing to prove it. They'd been able to book the drell on some minor charges, but nothing that was going to stick for more than a few days. And he was their last lead.

"Jane," Garrus passed her one of the datapads she thought she'd scoured half a hundred times already.

"I've seen that one."

"No, look," he thumbed to a shipping manifest for the _Gallavant_.

"I don't see it."

"It's not there. It's not on the official logs. The _Gallavant_ was never here." Garrus looked at her expectantly. She knew what it meant; if the _Gallavant_ had never touched down on Palaven, it could have taken the supplies.

"Where did it go?"

"Ilium."

"I'll contact Hackett. We're going to need a ship."

Three days. Three days until the _Normandy_ was on Palaven. Joker and EDI'd be here too, and whoever still wanted to serve from the ship mixed in with a new crew to fill the vacancies. Jane missed the _Normandy_; she missed it more than she'd ever thought she would. She remembered taking control when Anderson had been ignominiously cast aside, how wrong it felt, how foreign to be sleeping in his quarters and commanding his crew. She remembered sending it into battle to protect the _Destiny's Ascension_ when the Citadel was almost destroyed. She'd thought she lost the ship that day. And then, much later, when she'd watched it get cut in half from space, she'd been certain it would meet her in what afterlife there was.

But she'd come back, and the _Normandy _had too, stronger and faster but a little more alien. Then, they'd visited the shell of their past together. Finally, they'd been able to put things behind them, almost. No one had ever been quite convinced either of them were what they'd claimed. But, somehow, that was okay, she'd had the _Normandy_, and Garrus, and the fact that he didn't see her strangeness and the fact that the _Normandy_ was just as new, made things work. And then she'd crashed her, again, this time taking her through the Omega 4 relay and to certain death. But Joker had fixed her, like Joker eventually fixed Shepard when things were coming apart during the Reaper invasion. And now, the _Normandy_ was as much a part of her being as her gun or her biotics or her memories, and she ached to hear the clang of her feet under the deck and pace anxiously in the mercilessly slow elevator.

"It'll be good to be back in the black," Garrus said following her eyes as she stared up into the night.

She nodded.

"Done with Palaven?"

"Only some of its inhabitants." They hadn't seen Cenna since the dinner party, but Sol had told them Cenna was contrite and that he'd sent his regrets hoping they could meet in person to begin a more amiable friendship. Jane'd had to stifle a laugh at Cenna's attempt at an apology, but managed to reply that they were busy and would be leaving Palaven soon, but that they'd be sure to see them both when they were next back.

"At least we were both saved the temptation of pushing him off a mountain."

Jane grinned. "I am sorry I didn't get to see the mountains a bit more closely. We were in the city the entire time, you know."

"We have plenty of time to fix that later." He squeezed her hand just a little bit tighter leading her though the estates vast gardens.

Jane stared up at the sky counting the tiny blips of moving light as they danced through the sky. She'd almost forgotten how beautiful ships could be from the ground; it'd been so long since she'd looked for them. Since she'd been on leave somewhere remote enough to look for them. Since she'd looked at them without being reminded of Mindoir.

"Just in case we don't make it back for a while, there's somewhere I'd like to take you." Garrus's speech was halting. The only time Jane'd ever seen him like this was, well, before their first night. She'd never seen him quite so awkward since.

She smiled, "Lead on. I could never resist an anxious turian."

Garrus's mandibles clacked gently in a soft chuckle, "I'm glad someone finds my charm overwhelming."

He fell silent as they picked their way across the estate. Garrus moved swiftly without hesitating. She'd seen several of his favorite places on the estate, he'd shown her where he'd hid as a child to escape punishment, where he'd gone to think when he'd been older, and a particularly secluded spot that Jane hoped left him with some new memories.

He stopped at the entrance to the small Vakarian cemetery. He cast her a furtive glance waiting for her nod, before he continued in. He sat next to the tree that covered the headstone and the fresh grave motioning for Jane to join him.

"I wanted you to meet her before we left," he left unsaid the reason, even though it was clear to both of them. She'd died once, and almost died a second time. There were no guarantees, not for the two of them, and he wanted things to be settled.

Jane didn't reply, just responded with a slight nod.

"Lucia Vakarian, Mom, this is Commander Jane Shepard, the love of my life." His voice halted as he said the words, and Jane's thumb caressed the back of his hand in response. He looked down at her briefly, meeting her eyes, and finding the encouragement he needed, continued, "I told you about her before, about the way she fights, how stunning it is to watch her. How I'm amazed by her ability to lead people, how she makes me want to be a better man.

"But just the other day, at a dinner party held by Victus, she was accosted by Cenna—yeah, you remember him. You never liked him, no matter how much Sol tried to convince you otherwise—but he did some pretty terrible things to her. But she was just like a proper turian. A better turian than me, and you'd have been proud. So, this is Jane."

"Hi Mrs. Vakarian."

"She'd go by Lucia."

Jane smiled. She started speaking, watching Garrus, "Hi Lucia. I'm sorry I never got to meet you, even if I hadn't heard all the things you've done, I'd know I was missing something from the way everyone seems to have a permanent hole in their heart. I'm sorry you didn't get to say good-bye to your son. He was doing important things, saving the galaxy, taking care of those who needed him, making sure I came out of things in one piece. But I know he thought about you all the time. I know he's still trying to make up for it.

"My Mom died when I was young, and sometimes I'm jealous of the love you were able to give to Garrus and Sol. Love I never had. But I'm glad you were there for them. You'd be proud of the children you'd raised. Sol's doing some amazing things in the government, and Garrus, well, he saved us all. So, you'd be proud of him, too. I wish you could've met my Mom, you two would've been great friends." She smiled again. "A force to be reckoned with, in fact. But I'm glad I get to meet you know. Better late than never, right?"

Finishing she leaned against the tree staring at the headstone. Garrus looked over at her, tears streaming down her face.

"It's never too late, Shepard. It's never too late."

* * *

><p><em>AN_: First of all, I am SO SORRY I have been so tardy in updating. A number of things have been going on in real life among them: finishing a doctoral dissertation and moving across the continental US. Things have started to settle down a bit though, so I should be back to my old habits of keeping this story updated.

Second, the usual business about all of _Mass Effect_ belonging to Bioware, and how I'm just playing in their sandbox (although now Bioware has read my story!).

Third, and most importantly, a big THANK YOU to everyone who has been so patient during this seemingly interminable hiatus. I am so sorry to have kept you all hanging, and I promise to do everything in my power to keep that from happening again.

You all are like water to my soul, and I am so grateful for each of you who reads, favorites, reviews, shares this little work of mine. I am so happy to have all of you.

A huge thank you to GeminiDragon who has made a cover for this book (woo hoo!) and has posted it on DeviantArt. Go look at it! Seriously! It's way overdue, and she's done a beautiful job!


	13. Familiar Places, Familiar Faces

Chapter 13: Familiar Places, Familiar Faces

"Never thought we'd be heading back to Omega, Commander." Joker's hands moved easily over the controls, EDI was at his side quietly making adjustments.

Jane slid into parade rest as she watched the steady rush of stars over her head. "Me either."

"I can't imagine how Omega will be now that it's back under Aria's simple but stubborn rule." Joker rolled his eyes at her. The rule _was_ simple, even if it was uncompromising.

"Don't fuck with Aria," Jane said under her breath. "I wonder how many ex-Cerberus have tried?" Cerberus tended to leave a trail of bodies in their wake, but the singularly gruesome mess they'd left on Omega still made Jane's stomach roil. Jane imagined Aria's retribution had been swift and merciless; they had broken her rule, after all.

"The data suggests that transport to and from Omega has increased since we were last docked." EDI looked up from her post.

"That's because last time we were there, no one was coming in or out," Joker replied. "Be honest, Commander, you just want to reminisce on the good ole days—kicking some Cerberus ass, working with some mercs—"

"Do you remember the last time we were here?" Garrus asked striding onto the bridge.

"Joker was just reminding me what a good time we had." Jane couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her voice. Working with mercs she'd attempted to bring down not more than a year ago hadn't sat well with her or Garrus. Thankfully, Aria had been as good as her word; none of the mercs had touched her team despite some unnecessarily close calls.

Garrus grinned, "Remember when Aria sent us through the back wards, near where Mordin's med clinic used to be, to flank a squad of Cerberus troops and an Atlas."

"Mordin found a piece of equipment he thought he'd lost—"

"The mech was almost on top of us by the time he'd finally carried that thing away."

"Not much time. Surprised it hasn't been scavenged. Very useful for curing genophage," Joker impersonated with the uncanny ability that seems to only come from those who haven't been in a firefight together. Garrus barked deep laughter in response, and they all joined in laughing a little too long and a little too hard.

Jane felt Garrus's hand slide into hers, "He was a hero."

She nodded the laughter falling from her lips.

Joker coughed, "So, this trip, it's going to be less exciting than last time?"

"Aria owes us a couple," Jane said her eyes steeling themselves again.

"Let's just hope she doesn't think she's already paid up."

The red glow from the asteroid hadn't changed since the first time Jane saw it when she was seventeen and just looking to enlist. She'd bounced between foster homes for a bit on the colonies before finally running away, and ending up, briefly, on Omega. She'd tracked the batarians who'd hit Mindoir as far as Omega before she lost them in the shuffle of the black market. When she'd finally managed to get off Omega she'd hitched a ride back to Earth, enlisted in the marines, and hadn't come back until she'd had to fetch Garrus. And Mordin.

"ETA, Joker?" Jane asked as the lights slowly grew in the viewport.

"Half an hour, Commander. Shouldn't be long now."

She nodded, heels clipping together, and leaving the cockpit.

"Garrus?" Joker looked up from his controls, "Is the Commander okay? I haven't seen her like this since the middle of the Reaper invasion."

"She doesn't like Omega," he answered.

"Join the club."

Down in the cargo hold Jane motioned for Mirtik, the vorcha she'd picked up during the fight on earth. There hadn't been many vorcha on earth, and certainly not many who didn't try to claw the eyes out of everything they saw, but Mirtik was different. At least, that's what she'd told the crew when he came on board. She wondered how Joker'd taken to him so far. The point was, as she'd told Hackett, she needed a demolitions expert, and based on his performance on Earth, there weren't many out there that were better than Mirtik regardless of species. So, he'd been put down in the cargo hold, near where Jack used to sleep, and he seemed content. For a vorcha, anyway.

"Mirtik, have you been to Omega?" she wondered if he'd had any _encounters_ with Aria, if not, he could be useful with the rebounding vorcha population.

"I go many times. Many vorcha go. Promise of future."

"Did you meet Aria?"

"No. Stayed out of way, in the dark places."

Jane nodded. "Do you think you could help me talk to some of the vorcha on Omega?"

"After plague, Vorcha keep to themselves. Will try."

Jane swore Mirtik was the most helpful vorcha she'd ever seen, it wasn't saying much given his competition, but she was taking to the ferociously hideous demolitions expert in a way that, Garrus would assure her, only she could. "Well, suit up. We're docking in fifteen."

Mirtik nodded mouth still open in a grimly enthusiastic smile. "Time to get off ship."

Despite trusting the vorcha enough to put him in charge of demolitions, and to let him carry a flamethrower, Jane always had to consciously keep herself from glancing behind herself as she made her way up the steps. She grimaced as she passed the doors where Tali normally stationed herself and the cargo hold that used to house Grunt. The _Normandy_ was so similar and so different. She was so full and still so empty.

She punched the control on the elevator down to the landing bay. Her armor was down there now; it had been since the Alliance retrofitted the _Normandy_ while she'd been docked. She hated having it down there, she missed the hours she'd been able to spend mindlessly pulling the dirt out of the crevices, polishing the joints until they moved effortlessly, fiddling with the optics, vying with Garrus to push their tech farther than it ought to go. She slouched against the elevator; it was one of the few places she allowed herself to eschew the long years of military training. Aria, how long had it been since she'd seen her? Funny how the galaxy falls apart and one of the last remaining constants is an asari crime lord and a black market asteroid.

"Commander." Tara, the relentless N7 approached her.

"Yes, LT," replied Jane attempting to keep the exasperation out of her voice. She liked the new N7; she was full of heart and had been trained better than most. She was also a good shot and a formidable biotic—not as good as Jack, but outside of Grissom, Jane wasn't sure who was. This was the third time to day the new officer had approached her, and Jane guessed it would probably be about heading to Omega. She was really starting to wish she hadn't let Hackett convince her to mentor some of the newest officers out of the N7 program.

"I'd like to go out with you this mission, ma'am," continued Tara snapping into attention in front of Jane.

"Not this time. We're just going to talk to Aria, get some information, and then we'll be on our way. When there's an op that needs a strike force you'll come out."

"Ma'am, with all due respect, I am the best person on your squad, and I'd like to familiarize myself with my surroundings. I've never been on Omega before."

"You'll have plenty of other opportunities, Flynn. Just not today."

"I'm the best fighter on this ship," the anger in Tara's voice was almost palpable as she held herself, shaking, in attention, "And I'm more reliable than that vorcha."

"With all due respect, LT, you are not the best fighter on this ship. Have you seen Officer Vakarian shoot that sniper rifle of his? Have you ever taken down atnAtlas Mech? Crippled it? With biotics alone? Have you ever set charges so perfectly there was no unnecessary carnage? Have you ever worked with the tactical precision of a turian strike force?" Lieutenant Tara Flynn stood speechless, unable to affirm that she had done even one of these things. "That's what I thought. You've been trained by the best to be the best, but you are not the best yet. And as for the vorcha you're so concerned about, he grew up on Omega. He has contacts we'd never be able to find without him, so yes, Officer Flynn, he's essential to this mission's success. When we go somewhere and you are absolutely critical to establishing contact, we'll take you off this ship. But until then, LT, when I tell you to stay on this ship, you'll do as your told."

Jane returned the salute the lieutenant had been holding before briskly walking to her armor. Jane couldn't remember if she'd been like that; Williams had nearly been as bad with her perpetual xenophobia, at least at the beginning of their missions together. Jane let out a long sigh trying to regain control of her pulse and her temper; it wouldn't do anyone any good for her to still be on edge.

"You went a little hard on her, don't you think?" Garrus slid next to her leaning back on the armory table.

"She's got to learn that her merits in N7 don't mean anything out here, they don't mean anything to Aria, they don't mean anything to Omega, and they certainly don't mean anything to the bastards we're trying to catch."

"You could have just told her that," he smiled a little looking down at her quick moving fingers as she adjusted the last pieces before locking them into place.

Jane slammed the last piece into place a little harder than she needed to, "Garrus, she said she was the best shot on this ship."

His mandibles flared briefly in surprise before he began to laugh, "So, we'll take her out shooting. I'll how her how to make this rifle dance, and when she's been thoroughly embarrassed we'll bring her back here."

Jane smiled up at him, "You will not show her how to make a rifle dance. But otherwise, it's a date."

"Smells haven't changed a bit. It's nice to see Aria didn't do anything with the place," said Garrus as they headed through the dim corridors to Afterlife.

"I like it. Blood. Sweat. Fear. Danger. Like home."

"Mirtik, you're creepy. Even for a vorcha," said Garrus. Jane eyed him sharply. "Just takes some getting used to," he continued shrugging.

The alleyways were less crowded than Jane remembered; somehow Cerberus had scared, or killed, most of the underbelly of the galaxy. The people were quieter too. Omega had always been a place where it was best to keep your head down, but, now, Jane wondered how no one walked into walls.

"Something's not right," Garrus whispered to her.

"You see it, too?"

"They're scared, and it's worse than when I was here." Garrus watched a pair of salarians hurry past their arms hanging close to their sides, their elongated skulls noticeably pointed towards the ground. Those were the swift feet of the timid and the oppressed. Garrus, Archangel, remembered them all too well. His hand instinctively felt for his rifle slung high on his back, but it was caught by something warm and soft instead.

"We'll figure it out," she said quietly, slowly releasing her grip on his hand.

He nodded forcing Archangel back. Shepard wasn't dead. They were going to figure this out.

They nudged past the bouncer in front of Afterlife. Jane didn't know why people actually waited in the line, no one had ever stopped her. Then again, no one in the line was carrying an assault rifle, a shotgun, and grenade launcher and their companions weren't an armed vorcha and a turian sniper. Afterlife wasn't as busy as Jane recalled either, the throngs of aliens were missing, and the dancers were strangely alone.

"Remember, don't take drinks from a turian," Garrus said a sinking coldness finding it's way through his stomach as the memory of when Jane had been poisoned by one of the turian bartenders slunk its way back into his mind. Somehow she'd survived, although the bartender had killed plenty of other humans the same way, but she'd gone back and confronted him. Garrus's fist clenched again at the thought. She was so close to death so often.

"Any turian?" she grinned at him.

"Only the ruggedly handsome, scarred turians," he smiled back.

"Drinksss?" Mirtik hissed.

Aria watched them approach; her blue eyes follow Shepard and a smile playing over her lips. She raised her eyebrows slightly as she saw the vorcha trailing the pair, Shepard managed to accumulate the oddest companions.

"Garka," she spoke softly into her headset, "Let them pass."

She heard the quick repetition of Shepard's boots as she climbed the steps to Aria's private room.

"Shepard," a slow smile spread over her face, "What brings you here?"

"Just came to see what you've done with the place."

"Touching. I hope it's not just for another night on my couch."

Garrus flared his mandibles. "Her couch?"

"You were busy…calibrating," said Jane.

"You didn't know? It must have been quite memorable, then."

"We're looking for a ship, _The Gallavant,"_ Jane interrupted.

"Many ships come through here, although not as many as before Cerberus destroyed what I had built."

"_The Gallavant's_ from Palaven," said Garrus.

"A ship from Palaven?" Aria paused for a moment, her lips pursed together, "Ask Tarquin down at the docks. We don't get a lot from Palaven, you turians are an uptight race."

"From you, that's a compliment," said Garrus.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Archangel, Shepard seems to have loosened you up some. Don't look shocked. You two are the news of the hour. That little dress you wore made quite the statement." Aria ran her eyes over Shepard's frame. "Even I wouldn't have guessed you clean up that well. Nice work, Vakarian."

Garrus nodded once, "Come on, Shepard, let's check out the docks."

Jane turned to leave with Garrus.

"Shepard," Aria called, "Why the _Gallavant_?"

"Stolen supplies, maybe some refugees."

"I've forgotten how much I've missed your morality, Shepard. If Tarquin can't help, come back here."

"You've gotten Omega back in order, then?"

Aria grimaced, "Close. Still some reluctants holding out in the lower districts, and a couple merc teams got it into their head to break my rule."

"We're not teaming up with any more of your squads. I prefer to be shooting mercs rather than letting them watch my back," said Garrus.

"I can assure you, they weren't pleased about watching Archangel's back, either. As always, I'll be here."

Shepard, Garrus, and Mirtik silently made their way out of Afterlife. Tarquin, in the docks, could be helpful, if he was willing. On the other hand, the vorcha might know more about where a black market ship would dock. "Mirtik, do you think you can go ask some of the vorcha where _The Gallavant _would have docked?"

Mirtik's mouth opened in a ghastly smile as he nodded enthusiastically, "Yesss. Will talk to vorcha. Find _Gallavant_."

"Good, if you need anything, comm us. Rendezvous at 1800."

Mirtik nodded, resettling his flamethrower on his back. "1800, okay," he said before hurrying off in the direction of Omega's dark, back alleys.

Garrus caught her eye, "You really trust him on his own?"

She shrugged, "What's the worst that could happen?"

"He gets caught up with his vorcha buddies and decides to blow up the _Normandy_?"

"Garrus, if you want people to follow you, you have to give them the chance."

"And for you, they always rise to the occasion." He pressed his forehead against hers.

Jane rose onto her toes to meet him, "We shouldn't be doing this here."

"Don't worry, we won't do anything they can't see on the vids." He pulled away still holding her hands.

She grinned releasing his grip, "At least not here." Still smiling she began heading in the direction of the docks, "Tarquin, that's a turian name, isn't it?"

Mirtik missed Omega. A lot. He liked how dark it was, how full of fear, how no one noticed him. He liked that he wasn't the only vorcha.

He sneered as he passed a batarian. He hated batarians. More than any other race. They had the extra eyes, and how they talked. They hated vorcha, too. Thought the vorcha were just animals. He snarled.

His hands were aching to slice, to kill, to maim something, anything. He shook his head trying to shake the feeling. The flamethrower on his back felt heavy, he wanted to empty it. Anywhere. "Gah!" he clawed at his own head. He would fight soon. He knew it. Just not now.

Shepard told him to find the enemy. He would. He would find the enemy. He would kill the enemy, destroy it.

The vorcha were dug in deep back where the plague hit. After it had been cleared out by Shepard the Blue Suns had a difficult time regaining control of the vorcha population—a task they went about with few scruples.

Mirtik remembered how brutal they had been when they'd found a vorcha out alone.

_"Look at the fucking rat we've got here,"_ _said the batarian merc._

_The vorcha tries to scramble away from the four Blue Suns. He's not fast enough, and a quick butt with the heel of a rifle sends him sprawling._

_ They laugh at the crack of a broken bone._

_ Mirtik's in the ducts. Hiding. He knows better. But he listens. He hears all of it._

_ "That's right, these little shitheads regenerate."_

_ "Just means we can play all day." Another crack. Another bone._

_ The vorcha howls. Regeneration is hardly painless. It's why they have bloodlust, it keeps the pain away. Extra-dangerous but extra-vulnerable. Something no one knows about the vorcha._

_ The batarians don't stop for hours. They accuse the vorcha of spreading the plague, of engineering it, of working against Aria, of trying to kill them. Finally, when the vorcha can barely crawl they shoot him. In the throat, where he dies drowning._

_ Then they're gone, looking for another vorcha stupid or desperate enough to be on the streets._

Mirtik could feel his body getting ready for the fight just from the memory. "Find the enemy," he growled. "Find the enemy."

He missed the sounds of Omega. The constant noise of life. Shepard's ship was too quiet, too secret for a vorcha. He breathed the sweaty, stale air as he made his way deeper into the bowels of Omega determined to find the answers for Shepard.

"Mirtik," the breathy growl came from behind him.

The vorcha turned quickly, all the years of growing up on the streets coming back in an instant. Fingers splayed, claws out, Mirtik met his attacker his hand coming up to grab the other vorcha around the neck lifting him off the ground.

"Krynt." Mirtik hastily let the other vorcha fall to the ground. "Long time."

Krynt stepped towards Mirtik, hand pressed against his chest, "Why you back?"

"Ship. _Gallavant. _Any vorcha on it?"

Krynt shrugged, "Ask Wrosk."

"Spirits take Aria," Garrus cursed under his breath. He watched the heat signatures in his visor dart into cover behind the smoke screen. He could seen Jane's signature fly into the thick of it. He almost called out to stop her, but saw the biotic pulse from her barrier explode with purple electricity and he knew better.

He listened to her grunts as she threw herself at the band of mercenaries. Garrus adjusted his scope, flicking on the optical enhancer. He sucked in a deep breath as the scope landed squarely on the turian's head, and with a soft squeeze of his hand he pulled the trigger.

"Thanks Garrus," he heard Shepard through the comm and he smiled.

"I love this rifle," he muttered lining up the next merc in the scope.

"Reinforcements!" Jane yelled finally ducking under the cover of some boxes, pulling out her Mattock and firing blindly into the wave of approaching Blue Suns.

"Why is it always the Blue Suns?" asked Garrus.

"Because the Blood Pack is still busy looking for your body," Jane hollered back at him.

"You know," he said through the comm, "Now's one of those times we could really use a third squadmate. That vorcha, he'd be useful about now."

"He'll be here at 1800 hours," said Jane.

"Just in time to clean-up."

"Since when have you ever needed help, Vakarian?"

He grinned in response unloading another round into the lead Blue Suns engineer. "I got your six."

"I know." And Jane was out of cover, the electric trail of her charge still hanging in the air next to him. He heard the _slam_ of compressed air, and half a second later her heard the fiery pound of her nova. He caught one of the Blue Suns vanguards while they were still caught in the aftershock of Jane's attack.

Then she was firing, the steady bursts of the Mattock hitting his ears like her voice. "There's too many," he heard her say as her reave arced through the dock coiling around those mercenaries not smart enough to keep their distance. He could tell they were slowly pushing her back, her charges were becoming shorter and her novas closer together. Garrus sucked in a deep breath as he took less time between shots.

Garrus's visor went a bright, brilliant white before he heard the thick voice of Mirtik over their comm.

"Will kill you," Mirtik's gravelly voice refrained.

The vorcha's flamethrower was everywhere as he closed the gap between the mercs quickly. Garrus could've sworn he took a bullet in the arm, but he didn't stop, didn't even flinch. As the last remaining mercs fled to the sounds of Garrus's sniper and Mirtik's flamethrower they were caught by a line of trip mines.

Mirtik looked approvingly at Shepard, "Good idea."

"Yes, Mirtik, good idea."

"Will go finish." The vorcha began running in the direction of the fleeing mercs.

"No! Mirtik!" Jane called to him, but the vorcha was out of earshot.

Cenna crept over the bloodied floor of the abandoned warehouse on Cipritine. He kept himself low, and he kept the helmet of his armor black. He couldn't remember the last time he'd worn armor, but the privacy of the helmet was necessary.

Vakarian and Shepard had left Palaven several days ago claiming they knew where the supplies were going. Cenna'd pushed Sol as much as he dared to get the information from her, but either she didn't know or she wasn't going to share with him. He considered for a moment that maybe his stunt at dinner had caused more harm than he'd intended. He certainly could not afford having a rift between himself and his only link with the investigators. Sol was important.

He followed the boot prints through the dust moving carefully between the boxes littering the first floor and through the crowded living spaces on the second floor.

There was nothing here. At least nothing that had been left behind.

He thumbed his comm to Terren, "There's nothing here."

"There has to be," the older turian's reponse was instantaneous. "They found something. Don't come back until you know what it is."

Cenna sighed as he turned the comm off. The bodies of the gang members were long past putrification and the stench was nearly unbearable. He turned his oxygen scrubbers on.

"Disgusting," he said picking over the fallen bodies. The unidentifiable remains didn't bother him so much as that no one had moved them. They'd been lying in this building for nearly a week. Cenna shuddered involuntarily. Even the turians were still lying where they'd fallen.

He forced his way through the back office. The lock had been hacked, and then shot, and the office itself had been thoroughly ransacked. There shouldn't have been any data pads back here. Everything was done via word of mouth. There shouldn't have been a record of where _The Gallavant_ was going.

He wasn't sure whether he should hope to find something or not. If he did, it would mean Garrus wasn't nearly as intelligent as he'd claimed—to leave something so important behind. But, it would also mean someone had betrayed him, or, at least, failed to obey him. He grimaced. Nothing good would come from this investigation.

He rifled through the drawers. He was thorough, even if he wasn't hopeful. Nothing. No link to _The Gallavant_.

But then he saw it. A glint of metal. A tag from _The Gallavant_.

He thumbed the switch to Terren, "We have a problem."

* * *

><p>AN: First of all, Mass Effect is Bioware's universe, and I'm just playing in their sandbox. You know, the usual copyright stuff.

Second, a huge thank you to everyone who has been following, favoriting, reviewing, etc. I do try to respond to everyone's reviews, I got a bit behind during my unintended hiatus, but now that I'm back (and plan to stay that way) I LOVE getting to respond to the things you love (or hate) about my story.

Third, and maybe most important, I absolutely love when you give me feedback about where you think this story might go or things you would add to it. One of my favorite things about fanfic is the immediate response of the readers. It is so unlike writing a dissertation (where it's basically you in a room with some old books) or writing original fiction (where you have a handful of readers), and I really enjoy this interaction. So that dinner party, a few chapters back, that was a direct result of everyone chiming in saying they were stoked for it. And, in this chapter, the vorcha and the N7, are characters inspired by Hedonism_Bot. If you give me an idea and I already have a plan for something like that, I'll let you know (vaguely), and then you can see it come to fruition later; but if I don't, and it's going to fit with the story, I'm happy to run with it. Be warned though, my vision might not be exactly your vision, and I really just might run with it :D


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